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2656388	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 10:21 AM	1735691943	1749136884		2174																										norvure.com	Shop now			IMAGE	Effortless Manicures Anytime, Anywhere!	40% Off Until Midnight	https://norvure.com/products/clip-click%E2%84%A2-the-effortless-electric-nail-trimmer			1.1075792873604E+14	HappyMe's	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/440943208_1131808218104590_2955018481176265273_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HYPB3lpyZNwQ7kNvgEP6rvj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYA2o_oAuh2CvehbL5THsjSn62zsHE7u__xlCfW7Le25NA&oe=677A7799	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💅 Achieve salon-quality manicures with ease using Clip & Click™! No more struggling with traditional nail clippers - let the powerful motor and innovative design do the work for you. 👉 Click Shop Now And Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight!		HappyMe's		4159	https://www.facebook.com/100094368992659/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656827	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 12:01 PM	1735691951	1749142891		2174																										vistasocial.com	Sign Up			DCO	Effortless Social Media Management at Scale	{{product.description}}	http://vistasocial.com/			1.0910793812019E+14	Vista Social	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471842194_3386451841663530_7025985837482265277_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M9rNS0HYDRwQ7kNvgHcYwp0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYCarSO-tgCArMQFu_N624CD6-GqOhaeJP1GTKEvfel75Q&oe=677A4DFA	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Social media's best-kept secret for brands and agencies that mean business!		Vista Social		404	https://www.facebook.com/vistasocialapp/	0		SIGN_UP								View Edit Delete
2656826	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 12:06 PM	1735691951	1749143185		2174																										vistasocial.com	Sign Up			DCO	Effortless Social Media Management at Scale	{{product.description}}	http://vistasocial.com/			1.0910793812019E+14	Vista Social	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471842194_3386451841663530_7025985837482265277_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M9rNS0HYDRwQ7kNvgHcYwp0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYCarSO-tgCArMQFu_N624CD6-GqOhaeJP1GTKEvfel75Q&oe=677A4DFA	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Social media's best-kept secret for brands and agencies that mean business!		Vista Social		404	https://www.facebook.com/vistasocialapp/	0		SIGN_UP								View Edit Delete
2656824	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 12:08 PM	1735691951	1749143322		2174																										maersk.com	Learn More			DCO	Easy peak season booking	Booking Maersk Spot online is easy and can be done at anytime from anywhere. See our guide for detailed steps on how to book using PC and mobile.	https://www.maersk.com/support/faqs/book-maersk-spot?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=paid_social_conversion&utm_campaign=NAM_MCO_TRA_EN_OS_TBM_INTEGRATED_Q4_2024_448982&utm_term=&utm_content=nam-integreated-spot-meta-usa			1.906389676457E+14	Maersk	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470647843_944522454406853_3216293876702318043_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NdJI71czoUMQ7kNvgHDP9XC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBN6ASiU2l2HwK0MnWJJucX05xoQNhYJmIK4ZXZ9LBSlw&oe=677A64F5	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Our how-to videos guide you through every step, from securing your space to selecting value-added services.		Maersk		3061459	https://www.facebook.com/Maersk/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656831	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 12:14 PM	1735691951	1749143691		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106310760250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469791596_1497072464174794_2956150258884924477_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=rnOsROb4xL8Q7kNvgEX7K1m&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYDDcqIUO9KQ39mKLG7RuoNKR9Z9E4kORNeRJ1XlFI1xew&oe=677A4C80	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656812	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 1:35 PM	1735691951	1749148559		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBghTC_-ZAyCm726ul_FwOaF4adxdq2NPTxCPjDeZ2PWg&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656446	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/1/25, 2:35 AM	1735691944	1748763332		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656722	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 5:18 PM	1735691949	1749161898		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=b7Dpqf_BljIQ7kNvgGQpYEn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDHd6tmGRa-haSvvd3jFTGz2RaXc2alO6xmQAWsv-keZQ&oe=677A46EB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656554	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 6:13 PM	1735691946	1749165201		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656503	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/2/25, 2:29 PM	1735691945	1748892600		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			IMAGE	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469711969_384229181383992_1024207899625528278_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=hhWgjtBpdygQ7kNvgEH4GPN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDxqUT7AJVFDyhutu3aXgCiUDrpHY-GMwSq8A7t5-fLHQ&oe=677A688A	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった。		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656696	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 8:42 PM	1735691949	1749174142		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656715	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 10:54 PM	1735691949	1749182098		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=b7Dpqf_BljIQ7kNvgGQpYEn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDHd6tmGRa-haSvvd3jFTGz2RaXc2alO6xmQAWsv-keZQ&oe=677A46EB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656622	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691947	1748420568		2174																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oy1vAKbjbb4Q7kNvgEKUn0w&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYB7KkKVjI93MwbKMq9yf4NK03YM12NW2VdZzoQKW8o3qw&oe=677A7472	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656815	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 12:59 AM	1735691951	1749189575		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBghTC_-ZAyCm726ul_FwOaF4adxdq2NPTxCPjDeZ2PWg&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656443	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 1:09 AM	1735691944	1749794968		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656889	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 2:01 AM	1735691953	1749193318		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106342390250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469839748_1256328938987844_3299806594212437435_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ANQEhmiuud8Q7kNvgGzF0n3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYBPdW2LFrF2wQl5APdiifuU0-8yhhtl2ujoUlF2qZRp_g&oe=677A4D3D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656448	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 11:42 PM	1735691944	1749184926		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656532	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 11:42 PM	1735691946	1749184955		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656543	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 11:42 PM	1735691946	1749184974		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656881	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 11:52 PM	1735691952	1749185552		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214047116720250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469397512_1129111535884929_848007380099291027_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=12f_k30Z_l8Q7kNvgEiUfQ_&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYCVEo3kbygNd6ZaU0kEkqA6AK9soYISjnsReLAOKpM-iQ&oe=677A709D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656836	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 12:02 AM	1735691951	1749186154		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106466920250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469780861_2871668089657457_4945018324417384158_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XeUqjT1whcoQ7kNvgHNKqkk&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYD8iD-8BXka6kd4eAGkUHvAmJZIunfI9fxijn9HLuxPpA&oe=677A6A84	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656455	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420568		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656463	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420568		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656396	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:16 AM	1735691943	1748967386		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656492	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/1/25, 2:46 AM	1735691945	1748763974		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656445	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420568		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656517	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 12:59 AM	1735691945	1749880744		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656519	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420568		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656522	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 8:28 PM	1735691945	1749864497		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=KNfoxxyfdQYQ7kNvgEY98gl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYAIDhaRyteVODC3YHFetfKo0xjGV2NLeNkXI-SFyLGuqw&oe=677A603D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656523	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420568		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=KNfoxxyfdQYQ7kNvgEY98gl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYAIDhaRyteVODC3YHFetfKo0xjGV2NLeNkXI-SFyLGuqw&oe=677A603D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656526	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/1/25, 2:35 AM	1735691946	1748763340		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656536	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691946	1748420568		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656537	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691946	1748420568		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656538	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691946	1748420568		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656910	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691954	1748420568		2174																										Half-Dollar Rodeo Live at Martin's Downtown	INTERESTED			EVENT	Half-Dollar Rodeo Live at Martin's Downtown	Half-Dollar Rodeo Live at Martin's Downtown February 7 | Doors 9 pm | Presented by Rybolt Productions Formerly Tyler Flathau & The Forgotten Few. Half-Dollar Rodeo are a five piece southern rock/country band out of Hattiesburg, MS. with a perfect balance of in your face rock n roll, and rip your heart out sad songs. These songs, the shows, and the emotions felt will make you remember the Rodeo.	https://www.facebook.com/events/556073557333616/			2.5581359121763E+14	Martin's Downtown	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472272387_625178493405120_3584957937229546085_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XYfSIAcpoCEQ7kNvgGXRweQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYDork9YzmOGCrM3SJWtIdK1Mcq4R3vj8jXWYxcd9FA9sA&oe=677A7AD3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Half-Dollar Rodeo Live at Martin's Downtown February 7 | Doors 9 pm | Presented by Rybolt Productions Formerly Tyler Flathau & The Forgotten Few. Half-Dollar Rodeo are a five piece southern rock/country band out of Hattiesburg, MS. with a perfect balance of in your face rock n roll, and rip your heart out sad songs. These songs, the shows, and the emotions felt will make you remember the Rodeo.		Martin's Downtown		17331	https://www.facebook.com/MartinsDowntownJXN/	0		EVENT_RSVP								View Edit Delete
2656544	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691946	1748420568		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656659	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 3:36 AM	1735691948	1749890208		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656546	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 12:55 PM	1735691946	1749750906		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656502	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:48 AM	1735691945	1749368926		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468395294_1258665828775905_6985369980348509407_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=EqKEfcnZpO4Q7kNvgHZBcJe&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYDzrnifhQSToBBpFodsteqV7mpHrlELfu3bkLx6_HtmKQ&oe=677A5431	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2656504	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420568		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471691636_517632334635089_1460104559379314110_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Bl8GzuNEly0Q7kNvgFvHObj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYD95sk1hOAX8NWEKB3QyM5l_RTRAW0T2UTmA2hrgqx7kA&oe=677A4FB6	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656505	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420568		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471676894_1637562800496623_5610178580248952013_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=x0GS8kuAq1AQ7kNvgEGSAL2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDQDLaFv-ET51Da-m0mexDIxl99itR0qmDJR9JxxZG4mA&oe=677A4936	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656507	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420568		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470205780_2846819415500339_5040858801296977721_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=WE7EM_VNVlIQ7kNvgHRV8A7&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYD4-QAt7juISeydGzMotKeqs1EgtDwY6aU0qUFYgj3uYg&oe=677A4456	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった。		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656811	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 4:37 AM	1735691951	1749202676		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBghTC_-ZAyCm726ul_FwOaF4adxdq2NPTxCPjDeZ2PWg&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656609	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 9:56 AM	1735691947	1749567418		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656566	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 2:29 AM	1735691946	1749194998		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656617	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691947	1748420569		2174																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oy1vAKbjbb4Q7kNvgEKUn0w&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYB7KkKVjI93MwbKMq9yf4NK03YM12NW2VdZzoQKW8o3qw&oe=677A7472	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656598	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691947	1748420569		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656642	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691948	1748420569		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656676	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691948	1748420569		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656660	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691948	1748420569		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656684	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 8:53 PM	1735691948	1749174818		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656754	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420569		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656772	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 1:56 AM	1735691950	1749279366		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656876	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 5:06 AM	1735691952	1749204384		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214135098380250			4.6358262017968E+14	Hello reading-A	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470001223_3962902547280079_6827710585636472682_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=88w7cFybFr8Q7kNvgGG0YCU&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYAZ0iuuf1FoMPaVEsz3wHhRtQmIyaqaHtHW3CMFHQscEw&oe=677A5780	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-A		2	https://www.facebook.com/61570065204033/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656845	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 5:11 AM	1735691952	1749204704		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214135033780250			4.6358262017968E+14	Hello reading-A	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469778568_1132161291799450_1110230689406923463_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=VRkeskruFhMQ7kNvgGuzgke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYAdjWpBbUZR0Wpsw0Vm90Y3OnKq0ZmRZlit5aqXIMz_bw&oe=677A56D0	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-A		2	https://www.facebook.com/61570065204033/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656848	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 5:19 AM	1735691952	1749205190		2174																										fbweb.cdreader.com	Learn more			VIDEO	閱讀下一章👉		https://fbweb.cdreader.com/130853449-fb_contact-ft-p103_2-c2-1128-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=809076924536970&rawadid=120215590415120134			4.7515149567892E+14	Love reading - A	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469182957_920669623007560_4882969951371404600_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OPcYkkXp_soQ7kNvgEoXtBD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYDqHaX1wUXVxru8_q4-PBm_zmoqMBPKh-e0obEuijp78A&oe=677A6922	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		她愛上拯救她的陌生男人，卻得知他竟然就是拿她父親貪污案做墊腳石上位的新任市長！血海深仇，她毅然離去，男人卻瘋了，滿城尋她求原諒！ ===== “季小姐，出來吧，你叔叔已經將你五十萬賣給我了，以後跟著我吃香喝辣，你什麼活也不用幹，只管敞開腿伺候就成。” 轟隆聲響起，暴雨傾盆而下，一道閃電劈開長夜照亮了男人肥肉橫生的猥瑣面孔，他半邊臉擠在門框上變了形，眼神卻不停往門縫裡瞄。 房間內，季靈希渾身發抖的死死抵著門。 “滾……滾啊！！”她崩潰大喊，“我有未婚夫，他不會放過你的！” “未婚夫？你是說那位許家孫少爺？”男人爆發出嘲笑，“怎麼？季小姐不會還不知道自己早已經被退婚了吧？嗤，被玩膩的破鞋，還裝什麼矜持！” 說完，他肥豬一般的龐大身軀猛然往脆弱的門上一撞！ “啊！”季靈希被突然劇震的門板嚇到後退，雙手顫抖，“退婚？不可能，不可能……” 可真的不可能嗎？ 自從一個月前，季靈希的父親被誣陷貪汙腐敗入獄，母親車禍後昏迷不醒，整個季氏家族就走向了衰亡。 鉅額家產被全部凍結清算，一夜之間，她從千金小姐變成了負債上億的乞丐。 明天她所在的這套房子也要被查封，她是來取最後的行李的，卻正好被那二叔拿捏了行蹤，居然要乘機將她賣給這將近五十歲的死肥豬男！ 眾叛親離，她徹底一無所有了！ 門外，那死肥豬男的不耐煩的聲音再次傳來：“老子可沒耐心陪你玩小兔子乖乖的開門遊戲，去！讓人把鑰匙送上來！” 他有鑰匙！ 季靈希猝然白了臉，一旦門被破開，結局可想而知。 到時候就算是被侵犯致死都沒人會來替她收屍！ 逃！ 季靈希腦海裡只剩下這一個念頭。 身後窗戶大開，狂風裹挾著暴雨入侵，溼透的窗簾翻飛，天際電蛇狂舞，雷聲轟鳴。 她含著淚一咬牙，猛地衝到了窗前。 二樓而已，摔不死！ 縱身一躍—— 在大腦都壓根沒反應過來之前，人已經滾落在了地面草坪上，渾身溼透沾著汙泥。 “嘶！”說不出到底是哪疼，總之通身都像是要摔散架一般。 “人呢？”“翻窗跑了！”聲音從二樓傳來。 季靈希立刻胡亂爬起來，逃命時腎上激素的飆升讓她爆發出無與倫比的潛力。 逃，快逃，快逃啊！ 她趁著夜色和暴雨的掩蓋，就這樣生生衝出了灌木叢生的後院，往路口奔跑而去。 與此同時，馬路盡頭一輛黑色紅旗飛馳而來，車燈射穿雨幕，照在了突然出現，試圖橫穿馬路的黑影身上！ “我去！”司機沒忍住爆了一聲粗口，猛踩剎車的同時狂打方向盤。 後座衣衫考究的斯文男人猝不及防被巨大的慣性所挾持，一腦袋撞在了前座靠背上。 “砰”一聲悶響。 司機頓時魂飛魄散，“市市……市長先生！你沒事吧！？” 男人黑著臉，“你應該問問被你撞的人有沒有事。”說完，他推門下車查看。 黑色傘面被暴雨沖刷，男人腳踩一雙高定皮鞋，踏著汙水來到昏倒在地的女人面前。 司機哭喪著臉，“我明明踩剎車了，好像沒撞到她啊？” “不是你撞的。”男人一眼看出端倪，冷笑了聲，“碰瓷？膽子倒大。” 說完，他冷漠收回目光，轉身就走。 “等等……”剛剛還“昏迷”不醒的女人突然出聲，伸出一隻髒兮兮的手，飛快地拽住了男人剪裁利落乾淨的褲腳，抬起臉虛弱道：“別走，他們在追我，求你救、救我……” 這個聲音…… 男人腳步一頓，回過頭來，漆黑的眸子居高臨下看清了車燈下那張沾著泥土的臉，瞳孔驟縮。 “這、這不是孫少爺的未婚妻嗎！是市長先生您的侄媳婦啊！”司機率先驚叫。 “呵，”男人語調嘲諷，“我侄媳婦？” 他們在說什、什麼……什麼市長媳婦的…… 季靈希眼前男人的臉早就化作重影，耳邊一片嗡嗡，逃到這裡已經耗盡了她所有的力氣，到最後也只能全憑本能的死死抓著那塊一絲一線都昂貴至極的“救命稻草”不放。 男人似乎蹲下了身，但季靈希已經徹底支撐不住，昏厥了過去。 第2章 私人醫生 再醒來是在陌生的房間，窗外是炫目的白晝。 床邊穿著白大褂的醫生正在收拾工具，見季靈希睜眼，立刻高呼：“先生，人醒了！” 男人很快推門進來，對上了床上女人一雙迷茫受驚的小鹿般的眼，眼底是深刻的防備和恐懼。 他走近床邊，“醒了？燒退了嗎？” 冰冰冷冷，有點熟悉的聲音，更熟悉的是那張面無表情的臉。 “……許先生？”季靈希認出人，瞪大眼睛，“怎麼是你？” 這個男人她認識，是她的患者。 季靈希大學一畢業就入職了京市第一人民醫院心內科，許盛廷是她接手的第一個病人。 但神奇的是，許盛廷患有的並非是任何心臟類疾病，而是應該歸屬為精神科的睡眠障礙。 他患有嚴重失眠症，入睡困難，曾有過長達一個月未合過眼，最後暈厥在辦公室的記錄，他的上一位心理醫生對他束手無措，可機緣巧合下，卻發現許盛廷對季靈希的聲音有特殊反應，能依靠她的聲音睡著！ 於是他便被轉到了季靈希名下，成為了一個“特殊”病人。 這段時間的變故讓季靈希分身乏術，醫院那邊不得已請了長假，倒是許久沒有為許盛廷催眠了。 季靈希看著男人那張過分英俊的臉，高挺的鼻樑在臉頰落下陰影，嘴唇偏薄顯得不近人情，一雙冷靜威嚴的鷹眸底下，卻掛著兩個煞風景的黑眼圈。 眼睛裡也有不少紅血絲，顯然是太久沒能休息，精神高度緊繃造成的。 “謝謝許先生救了我。”季靈希坐起身，小臉脆弱蒼白。 回想起暈倒前的一切，她沒想到豁出性命的一次“碰瓷”，居然正好碰到了熟人身上！ 不幸中的萬幸。 “不客氣，我也很慶幸沒有背上一條人命。”許盛廷確認她已經退燒後，便讓醫生離開了，自己則順勢坐在了醫生的位置上。 “抱歉……”季靈希羞愧垂眼，“我不得不那樣。” 她尷尬的雙手絞著衣角，卻突然意識到自己身上的衣服已經換了。 也是，渾身溼乎乎髒兮兮的，怎麼上床？ 可是誰給她換的？不會是…… “昨晚是讓保姆給你洗的澡，換了衣服。”許盛廷見她呆呆地盯著衣服出神，臉還越來越紅，就猜到了她在想什麼。 “謝、謝謝。”被看穿心裡所想，季靈希更羞恥了。 好在許盛廷沒再繼續計較，而是突然提起另一件事：“你是不打算回醫院了嗎？” “短時間內我可能確實回不去了。”她實話實說。 醫院的工作需要花費大量時間和全部精力，但工資對於現在的她來說卻是杯水車薪，再加上父親的冤屈還未洗刷，季靈希不能把時間全部交代在那裡。 許盛廷的表情更冷了，“那你的病人怎麼辦？半途而廢，季醫生未免太不負責。” 什麼病人，他分明就是在說他自己！ 季靈希低下頭，“如果許先生需要催眠的話，可以隨時聯繫我，能來我一定來。” 也算是報答他這次的救命之恩了。 “是嗎？可你的電話打不通，消息也一直未讀。” 季靈希一愣，想起了什麼，尷尬道：“抱歉，我的手機不久前壞了……”被那群追債的砸了，還沒來得及買新的。 許盛廷皺了皺眉，顯然也想到了現下季靈希的狼狽，他沒有多問，只是叫了人進來吩咐了什麼，很快那人出去又進來，手裡多了一部手機。 許盛廷把手機交給季靈希，“以後用這個聯繫。” “啊？”怎麼能平白無故拿人家東西，季靈希第一反應是拒絕。 卻被許盛廷制止，“先別急著拒絕，我還有一份合約要和你商議。” “什麼合約？” “首先，我願意每月支付你五十萬。” 什麼？ 季靈希睜大眼睛看他，一臉震驚。 隨即她意識到什麼，驀地扯過被子將自己裹緊，只露出一雙警惕的眼睛。 悶悶的聲音隔著棉被傳來：“許先生，我不賣身的。” 看著他正派的眉眼和楚楚的衣冠，季靈希心道，沒想到也只是個人模狗樣的男人。 許盛廷沉默了會兒，突然莫名笑了下，“是嗎？加錢也不可以嗎，只需要每晚……” 伴隨著他越來越露骨的發言，季靈希炸毛一般，“當然不可以！” “只需要每晚給我催眠。”男人徐徐補充完整。 季靈希僵住。 “季醫生想到哪裡去了？”許盛廷看著她羞恥的眼，語氣揶揄，“我只是想聘請你做我的私人醫生而已，畢竟你是這個世界上唯一能讓我睡著的人。” 簽合同的時候，季靈希的臉還因為尷尬發著紅。 但同時她也感到難以置信，許先生居然真的開了月薪五十萬聘請她做私人醫生，而她的工作僅僅是每晚來給他催眠而已，這簡直是天上掉餡餅的事情。 諷刺的是，五十萬，正是那個劉總要買走她的價格。 “謝謝許先生。”季靈希抱著新手機，眼睛亮亮的看著他。 看著她紅撲撲的臉頰，男人眼神一暗，隨即移開目光，“嗯，晚上記得準時到，現在是休息還是離開，都隨意。” 季靈希立刻侷促道：“我很快就走。” “……嗯。” 季靈希出了門，才發現這裡是郊區的一棟私人別墅，私密性很強，和許先生這個人一樣神秘。 神秘到即使作為主治醫師為他治療了三個月，季靈希還是不清楚他的身份，只知道他忙碌且富有，應該是個成功人士。 她用新手機登入了自己的社交賬號，很快彈出一大堆未讀消息。 其中有個紅色的頭像格外醒目，是她的未婚夫許家榮，季家出事後，季靈希一直沒能聯繫上他。 現在他卻發來：靈希，明天下午三點，盛輝酒店1306見。 是昨天的消息。 第3章 一夜給你一萬 距離三點還有一個小時，季靈希看一下地圖，從這裡打車過去剛好來得及。 要去嗎？她心裡突突的跳。 昨天那個死肥豬男的話還歷歷在耳，他說許家早就退婚了。 可季靈希壓根沒收到通知，因此就算許家榮裝死了一個月，她還一直自欺欺人般抱著期待。 季家尚且衰亡，萬一許家也遇到了麻煩呢？或者是擔心受到牽連，等這陣子風頭過了，他就會聯繫她了呢？ 季家和許家在爺爺輩曾是世交，季靈希和許家榮更是自小就定下了娃娃親，兩人青梅竹馬，感情一度是甜蜜的，季靈希在心裡確實曾真心把他當做未來丈夫。 因此還懷揣著天真的期待和信任。 她最終叫了個網約車出發了。 無論退婚一事是真是假，她如今孤立無援，身負鉅債，即使是最後一點希望也要把握！ 網約車上，司機播放著時政廣播，主持人正在播報京市新任市長，是如何新官上任三把火，頒佈了不少利民新政策不說，還抓了一大批貪官汙吏，其中能源部部長季祥和，更是被舉報貪汙公款高達十個億，舉國震驚。 季靈希緊緊咬著唇，眼眶泛紅。 是新市長抓了父親。 說起來，之前她昏迷前，好像是隱隱約約聽到了什麼市長什麼媳婦之類的。 可當時深夜荒涼，周圍只有一輛車上有活人，大概高燒產生的錯覺吧。 如果能見到那位市長就好了，她真的很想瞭解清楚父親貪汙案件的始末，想知道那些所謂確鑿的證據都是從何而來。 她是父親的女兒，最清楚父親的人品，他是絕對做不出貪汙公款這種事情的！ 但以她現在的身份，想見那位市長一面，恐怕難如登天。 車停在了盛輝酒店門口，季靈希下車後，按照門牌號很快來到約定地點。 房門沒有關嚴，應該是許家榮已經到了，在等她。 季靈希沒多想，直接推開了門。 房間裡卻一片漆黑。 難道許家榮還沒到？ 季靈希略有疑惑，一邊往裡走一邊摸索開關。 突然她伸出的手腕被猛地攥住。 有人！ 季靈希猝然睜大眼，驚叫還沒來的及喊出口，就被捂住口鼻，強制拉進了一個光裸的懷抱。 “唔唔唔！”她拼命掙扎，卻完全敵不過對方的力氣，心裡驚懼一片。 “啪！”燈被打開了。 季靈希看清了來人，赫然是許家榮！ 對上她難以置信的眼，許家榮獰笑一聲，砰的把門踢上，緊接著把季靈希按在了牆上。 “靈希，我好想你。”許家榮緊貼著她身體，灼熱的鼻息噴灑在季靈希的脖子上，讓她渾身發毛。 她抗拒的推著他，“許家榮，你幹什麼？” “幹什麼？這不明擺著。”許家榮說著，居然開始撕扯她的衣服。 季靈希愕然，在驚怒之下，照著他裸露的肩膀狠狠咬了下去！ “嘶——”劇烈的痛感，讓許家榮下意識推開她，季靈希趁機逃離他的束縛，閃身抄起床頭櫃的檯燈，警惕的盯著他。 他們如今婚約是否名存實亡都不一定呢，季靈希怎麼可能跟他做！ 許家榮咬牙切齒，“季靈希！你淪落到如今這個地步，還不肯跟我睡？” “當初我圖你季家的助力，讓著你就算了，現如今你家都到這步田地了，你還有什麼可矜持的，扭扭捏捏裝假清高！” 季靈希被羞辱得渾身顫抖，瞪著他，“我只問你，許家是不是退婚了！？” 聞言，許家榮輕蔑一笑，看著季靈希的眼神更是不加掩飾的露骨，“不然呢？你以為你現在還配得上我？季靈希認清現實吧，跟了我，以後一夜給你一萬如何？” 季靈希氣紅了眼，握著檯燈的手都在發抖，“許家榮，我以前怎麼沒發現你這麼噁心？” “呵，我看你是敬酒不吃吃罰酒！”說完，他直接衝上來，季靈希舉起檯燈砸，卻被男人一把擋住，反手將她控制。 力量太懸殊了，季靈希顫抖著咬唇，目露恨光。 這時，許家榮褲兜裡的電話鈴響了。 他不以為然，電話自動掛斷，但緊接著又響起一個特殊的鈴聲。 許家榮動作一頓，咬牙切齒的空出手接通電話：“爺爺。” 對面威嚴的聲音傳出，季靈希離得太近也能聽見。 “家榮啊，你小叔回京市上任也有三個多月了，今晚辦家宴，你現在立刻回來。” 第4章 許家小叔 許老爺子是許家的真正掌權者，威嚴不言而喻，以至於許家榮如今箭在弦上，也不得不偃旗息鼓。 季靈希趁機掙脫開他的束縛，整理好身上的衣服。 見狀，許家榮冷笑：“這次先放過你，季靈希你好好想想吧，做我的女人才是你的最佳選擇，不然有第一個劉總就會有第二個，你以為次次都能逃得掉嗎？” 聽他提起劉總，季靈希難以置信，“你知道？” “當然，你可知你那好叔叔的拜帖遞給過多少人？如今圈子裡誰人不知，你季家大小姐是個五十萬就能買走的便宜貨？” 季靈希瞬間白了臉，眼底的恨意不加掩飾。 但許家榮卻不以為意，失去了季祥和庇護的季靈希就是一隻弱小的兔子，人人都能踩一腳，一隻兔子能有什麼反抗能力呢？ “季靈希，想清楚了隨時聯繫我。” 許家榮晃了晃手機，勢在必得的看了她一眼，轉身離開。 季靈希死死盯著他，在男人轉身之際，突然暴起舉著手中檯燈狠狠砸了下去！ 一聲巨響，紅漿自許家榮頭頂流下，劃過他猝然瞪大的雙眼，落到地面上。 男人抽搐著倒地。 季靈希後知後覺，顫抖著走到他身邊，蹲下身試探鼻息。 還活著。 松了口氣，季靈希站起身，居高臨下看了他兩秒，又不解氣地往那兩腿之間來了一腳。 … 許家。 京市作為H國首都，無數豪門世家紮根於此，其中許家是當之無愧的豪門之首，因此這一年一度的家宴，也舉辦得極其鋪張奢華。 一輛黑色紅旗L9停在了大門口，管家連忙來幫忙拉開車門，男人伸出長腿下車。 “二爺回來了，老爺在屋裡呢，現下除了家榮少爺，其他人也都到了。” 許盛廷聞言，朝他點點頭，徑直往屋裡走。 然而剛靠近主屋，裡面的吵鬧聲就傳了出來。 是他父親，許家家主的聲音，“那混賬東西，婚都退了還非要去招惹人家，還鬧到局子裡去了，簡直丟盡我許家顏面！” “爸，也不能怪我們家榮啊，傳信人說他腦袋都被打破了，分明是受害者！我看是那姓季的，家裡出事想要抓著我們許家不放，糾纏家榮呢！” 許盛廷站在門口沒進去，皺眉問：“怎麼回事？” 老管家尷尬道：“聽說是家榮少爺被他前未婚妻砸破了腦袋，人家姑娘打了120，結果救護車沒到，少爺自己醒了，拉著那姑娘非要報警，現在人被困在局子裡呢。” “他既然是受害者，又為什麼會被扣在警局。” “因為那姑娘跟警察說他試圖侵犯她……” 許盛廷冷笑，隨即推門而入。 與此同時，他大哥許源，估計也是覺得家宴鬧出這事實在丟人，拉著正據理力爭的妻子，勸道：“你別說了，現在當務之急是把家榮接回來。” 他大嫂紅著眼：“警察不肯放人我怎麼接！” “我去接。”冰冷的聲音打斷他們。 “盛廷？”許源尷尬笑道，“你來了，也是，你如今是市長，在警局那邊的面子自然比我們好用。” 許盛廷不置可否，神情冷淡的跟主位上的老爺子打了個招呼。 警局，季靈希坐在和許家榮一欄杆之隔的房間裡，冷眼看著他發瘋。 對此警察也頭疼，他們又何嘗想得罪許家，季靈希雖然控訴許家榮侵犯未遂，但到底拿不出實質的證據，本來教育教育就可以放人。 但許家榮一個嬌生慣養的大少爺，還是第一次被人開瓢，哪裡咽的下這口氣？ 非要強留在這裡死纏爛打，要季靈希坐牢，不然就賠償他五百萬。 五百萬？就憑他頭頂連輕傷都算不上的口子？這不搞笑嘛。 況且罪名雖無法成立，但人家姑娘身上的淤青和破碎的衣服是實打實的，砸他完全是合法自保，他再鬧也沒用啊。 警局外傳來動靜，有人小跑進來，“隊長，許家來人了。” “誰來了？” “好像是許家二爺。” 警長唰得起身，“還不快請進來！” 季靈希聞言抿緊了唇，神態防備。 許家二爺，那不就是許家榮的小叔？肯定是來撈他的。 門被推開，男人高大的身影出現在門口，季靈希警惕地望過去，卻看到了一張意料之外的熟悉的臉。 她人傻了。 怎麼是許盛廷？ ...... 接下來會發生什麼？ 這裡放的章節有限，點選下方按鈕安裝App，繼續閱讀更多精彩章節 （打開應用程式時會自動跳到該書） &5&		Love reading - A		85	https://www.facebook.com/61568188880222/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656861	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 5:30 PM	1735691952	1749249030		2174																										fbweb.cdreader.com	Learn more			VIDEO	閱讀下一章👉		https://fbweb.cdreader.com/130853449-fb_contact-ft-p103_2-c2-1128-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=809076924536970&rawadid=120215590419200134			4.7515149567892E+14	Love reading - A	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469067127_1906671916530281_6485108058933829382_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=hDb6aDHWBPcQ7kNvgGHJ3Rf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYA8rQUwobFWY72FudgymIDwo-Imml7Z1Q_DHDJY7niEXg&oe=677A5ED6	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		她愛上拯救她的陌生男人，卻得知他竟然就是拿她父親貪污案做墊腳石上位的新任市長！血海深仇，她毅然離去，男人卻瘋了，滿城尋她求原諒！ ===== “季小姐，出來吧，你叔叔已經將你五十萬賣給我了，以後跟著我吃香喝辣，你什麼活也不用幹，只管敞開腿伺候就成。” 轟隆聲響起，暴雨傾盆而下，一道閃電劈開長夜照亮了男人肥肉橫生的猥瑣面孔，他半邊臉擠在門框上變了形，眼神卻不停往門縫裡瞄。 房間內，季靈希渾身發抖的死死抵著門。 “滾……滾啊！！”她崩潰大喊，“我有未婚夫，他不會放過你的！” “未婚夫？你是說那位許家孫少爺？”男人爆發出嘲笑，“怎麼？季小姐不會還不知道自己早已經被退婚了吧？嗤，被玩膩的破鞋，還裝什麼矜持！” 說完，他肥豬一般的龐大身軀猛然往脆弱的門上一撞！ “啊！”季靈希被突然劇震的門板嚇到後退，雙手顫抖，“退婚？不可能，不可能……” 可真的不可能嗎？ 自從一個月前，季靈希的父親被誣陷貪汙腐敗入獄，母親車禍後昏迷不醒，整個季氏家族就走向了衰亡。 鉅額家產被全部凍結清算，一夜之間，她從千金小姐變成了負債上億的乞丐。 明天她所在的這套房子也要被查封，她是來取最後的行李的，卻正好被那二叔拿捏了行蹤，居然要乘機將她賣給這將近五十歲的死肥豬男！ 眾叛親離，她徹底一無所有了！ 門外，那死肥豬男的不耐煩的聲音再次傳來：“老子可沒耐心陪你玩小兔子乖乖的開門遊戲，去！讓人把鑰匙送上來！” 他有鑰匙！ 季靈希猝然白了臉，一旦門被破開，結局可想而知。 到時候就算是被侵犯致死都沒人會來替她收屍！ 逃！ 季靈希腦海裡只剩下這一個念頭。 身後窗戶大開，狂風裹挾著暴雨入侵，溼透的窗簾翻飛，天際電蛇狂舞，雷聲轟鳴。 她含著淚一咬牙，猛地衝到了窗前。 二樓而已，摔不死！ 縱身一躍—— 在大腦都壓根沒反應過來之前，人已經滾落在了地面草坪上，渾身溼透沾著汙泥。 “嘶！”說不出到底是哪疼，總之通身都像是要摔散架一般。 “人呢？”“翻窗跑了！”聲音從二樓傳來。 季靈希立刻胡亂爬起來，逃命時腎上激素的飆升讓她爆發出無與倫比的潛力。 逃，快逃，快逃啊！ 她趁著夜色和暴雨的掩蓋，就這樣生生衝出了灌木叢生的後院，往路口奔跑而去。 與此同時，馬路盡頭一輛黑色紅旗飛馳而來，車燈射穿雨幕，照在了突然出現，試圖橫穿馬路的黑影身上！ “我去！”司機沒忍住爆了一聲粗口，猛踩剎車的同時狂打方向盤。 後座衣衫考究的斯文男人猝不及防被巨大的慣性所挾持，一腦袋撞在了前座靠背上。 “砰”一聲悶響。 司機頓時魂飛魄散，“市市……市長先生！你沒事吧！？” 男人黑著臉，“你應該問問被你撞的人有沒有事。”說完，他推門下車查看。 黑色傘面被暴雨沖刷，男人腳踩一雙高定皮鞋，踏著汙水來到昏倒在地的女人面前。 司機哭喪著臉，“我明明踩剎車了，好像沒撞到她啊？” “不是你撞的。”男人一眼看出端倪，冷笑了聲，“碰瓷？膽子倒大。” 說完，他冷漠收回目光，轉身就走。 “等等……”剛剛還“昏迷”不醒的女人突然出聲，伸出一隻髒兮兮的手，飛快地拽住了男人剪裁利落乾淨的褲腳，抬起臉虛弱道：“別走，他們在追我，求你救、救我……” 這個聲音…… 男人腳步一頓，回過頭來，漆黑的眸子居高臨下看清了車燈下那張沾著泥土的臉，瞳孔驟縮。 “這、這不是孫少爺的未婚妻嗎！是市長先生您的侄媳婦啊！”司機率先驚叫。 “呵，”男人語調嘲諷，“我侄媳婦？” 他們在說什、什麼……什麼市長媳婦的…… 季靈希眼前男人的臉早就化作重影，耳邊一片嗡嗡，逃到這裡已經耗盡了她所有的力氣，到最後也只能全憑本能的死死抓著那塊一絲一線都昂貴至極的“救命稻草”不放。 男人似乎蹲下了身，但季靈希已經徹底支撐不住，昏厥了過去。 第2章 私人醫生 再醒來是在陌生的房間，窗外是炫目的白晝。 床邊穿著白大褂的醫生正在收拾工具，見季靈希睜眼，立刻高呼：“先生，人醒了！” 男人很快推門進來，對上了床上女人一雙迷茫受驚的小鹿般的眼，眼底是深刻的防備和恐懼。 他走近床邊，“醒了？燒退了嗎？” 冰冰冷冷，有點熟悉的聲音，更熟悉的是那張面無表情的臉。 “……許先生？”季靈希認出人，瞪大眼睛，“怎麼是你？” 這個男人她認識，是她的患者。 季靈希大學一畢業就入職了京市第一人民醫院心內科，許盛廷是她接手的第一個病人。 但神奇的是，許盛廷患有的並非是任何心臟類疾病，而是應該歸屬為精神科的睡眠障礙。 他患有嚴重失眠症，入睡困難，曾有過長達一個月未合過眼，最後暈厥在辦公室的記錄，他的上一位心理醫生對他束手無措，可機緣巧合下，卻發現許盛廷對季靈希的聲音有特殊反應，能依靠她的聲音睡著！ 於是他便被轉到了季靈希名下，成為了一個“特殊”病人。 這段時間的變故讓季靈希分身乏術，醫院那邊不得已請了長假，倒是許久沒有為許盛廷催眠了。 季靈希看著男人那張過分英俊的臉，高挺的鼻樑在臉頰落下陰影，嘴唇偏薄顯得不近人情，一雙冷靜威嚴的鷹眸底下，卻掛著兩個煞風景的黑眼圈。 眼睛裡也有不少紅血絲，顯然是太久沒能休息，精神高度緊繃造成的。 “謝謝許先生救了我。”季靈希坐起身，小臉脆弱蒼白。 回想起暈倒前的一切，她沒想到豁出性命的一次“碰瓷”，居然正好碰到了熟人身上！ 不幸中的萬幸。 “不客氣，我也很慶幸沒有背上一條人命。”許盛廷確認她已經退燒後，便讓醫生離開了，自己則順勢坐在了醫生的位置上。 “抱歉……”季靈希羞愧垂眼，“我不得不那樣。” 她尷尬的雙手絞著衣角，卻突然意識到自己身上的衣服已經換了。 也是，渾身溼乎乎髒兮兮的，怎麼上床？ 可是誰給她換的？不會是…… “昨晚是讓保姆給你洗的澡，換了衣服。”許盛廷見她呆呆地盯著衣服出神，臉還越來越紅，就猜到了她在想什麼。 “謝、謝謝。”被看穿心裡所想，季靈希更羞恥了。 好在許盛廷沒再繼續計較，而是突然提起另一件事：“你是不打算回醫院了嗎？” “短時間內我可能確實回不去了。”她實話實說。 醫院的工作需要花費大量時間和全部精力，但工資對於現在的她來說卻是杯水車薪，再加上父親的冤屈還未洗刷，季靈希不能把時間全部交代在那裡。 許盛廷的表情更冷了，“那你的病人怎麼辦？半途而廢，季醫生未免太不負責。” 什麼病人，他分明就是在說他自己！ 季靈希低下頭，“如果許先生需要催眠的話，可以隨時聯繫我，能來我一定來。” 也算是報答他這次的救命之恩了。 “是嗎？可你的電話打不通，消息也一直未讀。” 季靈希一愣，想起了什麼，尷尬道：“抱歉，我的手機不久前壞了……”被那群追債的砸了，還沒來得及買新的。 許盛廷皺了皺眉，顯然也想到了現下季靈希的狼狽，他沒有多問，只是叫了人進來吩咐了什麼，很快那人出去又進來，手裡多了一部手機。 許盛廷把手機交給季靈希，“以後用這個聯繫。” “啊？”怎麼能平白無故拿人家東西，季靈希第一反應是拒絕。 卻被許盛廷制止，“先別急著拒絕，我還有一份合約要和你商議。” “什麼合約？” “首先，我願意每月支付你五十萬。” 什麼？ 季靈希睜大眼睛看他，一臉震驚。 隨即她意識到什麼，驀地扯過被子將自己裹緊，只露出一雙警惕的眼睛。 悶悶的聲音隔著棉被傳來：“許先生，我不賣身的。” 看著他正派的眉眼和楚楚的衣冠，季靈希心道，沒想到也只是個人模狗樣的男人。 許盛廷沉默了會兒，突然莫名笑了下，“是嗎？加錢也不可以嗎，只需要每晚……” 伴隨著他越來越露骨的發言，季靈希炸毛一般，“當然不可以！” “只需要每晚給我催眠。”男人徐徐補充完整。 季靈希僵住。 “季醫生想到哪裡去了？”許盛廷看著她羞恥的眼，語氣揶揄，“我只是想聘請你做我的私人醫生而已，畢竟你是這個世界上唯一能讓我睡著的人。” 簽合同的時候，季靈希的臉還因為尷尬發著紅。 但同時她也感到難以置信，許先生居然真的開了月薪五十萬聘請她做私人醫生，而她的工作僅僅是每晚來給他催眠而已，這簡直是天上掉餡餅的事情。 諷刺的是，五十萬，正是那個劉總要買走她的價格。 “謝謝許先生。”季靈希抱著新手機，眼睛亮亮的看著他。 看著她紅撲撲的臉頰，男人眼神一暗，隨即移開目光，“嗯，晚上記得準時到，現在是休息還是離開，都隨意。” 季靈希立刻侷促道：“我很快就走。” “……嗯。” 季靈希出了門，才發現這裡是郊區的一棟私人別墅，私密性很強，和許先生這個人一樣神秘。 神秘到即使作為主治醫師為他治療了三個月，季靈希還是不清楚他的身份，只知道他忙碌且富有，應該是個成功人士。 她用新手機登入了自己的社交賬號，很快彈出一大堆未讀消息。 其中有個紅色的頭像格外醒目，是她的未婚夫許家榮，季家出事後，季靈希一直沒能聯繫上他。 現在他卻發來：靈希，明天下午三點，盛輝酒店1306見。 是昨天的消息。 第3章 一夜給你一萬 距離三點還有一個小時，季靈希看一下地圖，從這裡打車過去剛好來得及。 要去嗎？她心裡突突的跳。 昨天那個死肥豬男的話還歷歷在耳，他說許家早就退婚了。 可季靈希壓根沒收到通知，因此就算許家榮裝死了一個月，她還一直自欺欺人般抱著期待。 季家尚且衰亡，萬一許家也遇到了麻煩呢？或者是擔心受到牽連，等這陣子風頭過了，他就會聯繫她了呢？ 季家和許家在爺爺輩曾是世交，季靈希和許家榮更是自小就定下了娃娃親，兩人青梅竹馬，感情一度是甜蜜的，季靈希在心裡確實曾真心把他當做未來丈夫。 因此還懷揣著天真的期待和信任。 她最終叫了個網約車出發了。 無論退婚一事是真是假，她如今孤立無援，身負鉅債，即使是最後一點希望也要把握！ 網約車上，司機播放著時政廣播，主持人正在播報京市新任市長，是如何新官上任三把火，頒佈了不少利民新政策不說，還抓了一大批貪官汙吏，其中能源部部長季祥和，更是被舉報貪汙公款高達十個億，舉國震驚。 季靈希緊緊咬著唇，眼眶泛紅。 是新市長抓了父親。 說起來，之前她昏迷前，好像是隱隱約約聽到了什麼市長什麼媳婦之類的。 可當時深夜荒涼，周圍只有一輛車上有活人，大概高燒產生的錯覺吧。 如果能見到那位市長就好了，她真的很想瞭解清楚父親貪汙案件的始末，想知道那些所謂確鑿的證據都是從何而來。 她是父親的女兒，最清楚父親的人品，他是絕對做不出貪汙公款這種事情的！ 但以她現在的身份，想見那位市長一面，恐怕難如登天。 車停在了盛輝酒店門口，季靈希下車後，按照門牌號很快來到約定地點。 房門沒有關嚴，應該是許家榮已經到了，在等她。 季靈希沒多想，直接推開了門。 房間裡卻一片漆黑。 難道許家榮還沒到？ 季靈希略有疑惑，一邊往裡走一邊摸索開關。 突然她伸出的手腕被猛地攥住。 有人！ 季靈希猝然睜大眼，驚叫還沒來的及喊出口，就被捂住口鼻，強制拉進了一個光裸的懷抱。 “唔唔唔！”她拼命掙扎，卻完全敵不過對方的力氣，心裡驚懼一片。 “啪！”燈被打開了。 季靈希看清了來人，赫然是許家榮！ 對上她難以置信的眼，許家榮獰笑一聲，砰的把門踢上，緊接著把季靈希按在了牆上。 “靈希，我好想你。”許家榮緊貼著她身體，灼熱的鼻息噴灑在季靈希的脖子上，讓她渾身發毛。 她抗拒的推著他，“許家榮，你幹什麼？” “幹什麼？這不明擺著。”許家榮說著，居然開始撕扯她的衣服。 季靈希愕然，在驚怒之下，照著他裸露的肩膀狠狠咬了下去！ “嘶——”劇烈的痛感，讓許家榮下意識推開她，季靈希趁機逃離他的束縛，閃身抄起床頭櫃的檯燈，警惕的盯著他。 他們如今婚約是否名存實亡都不一定呢，季靈希怎麼可能跟他做！ 許家榮咬牙切齒，“季靈希！你淪落到如今這個地步，還不肯跟我睡？” “當初我圖你季家的助力，讓著你就算了，現如今你家都到這步田地了，你還有什麼可矜持的，扭扭捏捏裝假清高！” 季靈希被羞辱得渾身顫抖，瞪著他，“我只問你，許家是不是退婚了！？” 聞言，許家榮輕蔑一笑，看著季靈希的眼神更是不加掩飾的露骨，“不然呢？你以為你現在還配得上我？季靈希認清現實吧，跟了我，以後一夜給你一萬如何？” 季靈希氣紅了眼，握著檯燈的手都在發抖，“許家榮，我以前怎麼沒發現你這麼噁心？” “呵，我看你是敬酒不吃吃罰酒！”說完，他直接衝上來，季靈希舉起檯燈砸，卻被男人一把擋住，反手將她控制。 力量太懸殊了，季靈希顫抖著咬唇，目露恨光。 這時，許家榮褲兜裡的電話鈴響了。 他不以為然，電話自動掛斷，但緊接著又響起一個特殊的鈴聲。 許家榮動作一頓，咬牙切齒的空出手接通電話：“爺爺。” 對面威嚴的聲音傳出，季靈希離得太近也能聽見。 “家榮啊，你小叔回京市上任也有三個多月了，今晚辦家宴，你現在立刻回來。” 第4章 許家小叔 許老爺子是許家的真正掌權者，威嚴不言而喻，以至於許家榮如今箭在弦上，也不得不偃旗息鼓。 季靈希趁機掙脫開他的束縛，整理好身上的衣服。 見狀，許家榮冷笑：“這次先放過你，季靈希你好好想想吧，做我的女人才是你的最佳選擇，不然有第一個劉總就會有第二個，你以為次次都能逃得掉嗎？” 聽他提起劉總，季靈希難以置信，“你知道？” “當然，你可知你那好叔叔的拜帖遞給過多少人？如今圈子裡誰人不知，你季家大小姐是個五十萬就能買走的便宜貨？” 季靈希瞬間白了臉，眼底的恨意不加掩飾。 但許家榮卻不以為意，失去了季祥和庇護的季靈希就是一隻弱小的兔子，人人都能踩一腳，一隻兔子能有什麼反抗能力呢？ “季靈希，想清楚了隨時聯繫我。” 許家榮晃了晃手機，勢在必得的看了她一眼，轉身離開。 季靈希死死盯著他，在男人轉身之際，突然暴起舉著手中檯燈狠狠砸了下去！ 一聲巨響，紅漿自許家榮頭頂流下，劃過他猝然瞪大的雙眼，落到地面上。 男人抽搐著倒地。 季靈希後知後覺，顫抖著走到他身邊，蹲下身試探鼻息。 還活著。 松了口氣，季靈希站起身，居高臨下看了他兩秒，又不解氣地往那兩腿之間來了一腳。 … 許家。 京市作為H國首都，無數豪門世家紮根於此，其中許家是當之無愧的豪門之首，因此這一年一度的家宴，也舉辦得極其鋪張奢華。 一輛黑色紅旗L9停在了大門口，管家連忙來幫忙拉開車門，男人伸出長腿下車。 “二爺回來了，老爺在屋裡呢，現下除了家榮少爺，其他人也都到了。” 許盛廷聞言，朝他點點頭，徑直往屋裡走。 然而剛靠近主屋，裡面的吵鬧聲就傳了出來。 是他父親，許家家主的聲音，“那混賬東西，婚都退了還非要去招惹人家，還鬧到局子裡去了，簡直丟盡我許家顏面！” “爸，也不能怪我們家榮啊，傳信人說他腦袋都被打破了，分明是受害者！我看是那姓季的，家裡出事想要抓著我們許家不放，糾纏家榮呢！” 許盛廷站在門口沒進去，皺眉問：“怎麼回事？” 老管家尷尬道：“聽說是家榮少爺被他前未婚妻砸破了腦袋，人家姑娘打了120，結果救護車沒到，少爺自己醒了，拉著那姑娘非要報警，現在人被困在局子裡呢。” “他既然是受害者，又為什麼會被扣在警局。” “因為那姑娘跟警察說他試圖侵犯她……” 許盛廷冷笑，隨即推門而入。 與此同時，他大哥許源，估計也是覺得家宴鬧出這事實在丟人，拉著正據理力爭的妻子，勸道：“你別說了，現在當務之急是把家榮接回來。” 他大嫂紅著眼：“警察不肯放人我怎麼接！” “我去接。”冰冷的聲音打斷他們。 “盛廷？”許源尷尬笑道，“你來了，也是，你如今是市長，在警局那邊的面子自然比我們好用。” 許盛廷不置可否，神情冷淡的跟主位上的老爺子打了個招呼。 警局，季靈希坐在和許家榮一欄杆之隔的房間裡，冷眼看著他發瘋。 對此警察也頭疼，他們又何嘗想得罪許家，季靈希雖然控訴許家榮侵犯未遂，但到底拿不出實質的證據，本來教育教育就可以放人。 但許家榮一個嬌生慣養的大少爺，還是第一次被人開瓢，哪裡咽的下這口氣？ 非要強留在這裡死纏爛打，要季靈希坐牢，不然就賠償他五百萬。 五百萬？就憑他頭頂連輕傷都算不上的口子？這不搞笑嘛。 況且罪名雖無法成立，但人家姑娘身上的淤青和破碎的衣服是實打實的，砸他完全是合法自保，他再鬧也沒用啊。 警局外傳來動靜，有人小跑進來，“隊長，許家來人了。” “誰來了？” “好像是許家二爺。” 警長唰得起身，“還不快請進來！” 季靈希聞言抿緊了唇，神態防備。 許家二爺，那不就是許家榮的小叔？肯定是來撈他的。 門被推開，男人高大的身影出現在門口，季靈希警惕地望過去，卻看到了一張意料之外的熟悉的臉。 她人傻了。 怎麼是許盛廷？ ...... 接下來會發生什麼？ 這裡放的章節有限，點選下方按鈕安裝App，繼續閱讀更多精彩章節 （打開應用程式時會自動跳到該書） &5&		Love reading - A		85	https://www.facebook.com/61568188880222/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656862	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 11:42 PM	1735691952	1749271369		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214134988350250			4.6358262017968E+14	Hello reading-A	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469823658_934772771946091_804660173207425449_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CWL4jiEu6dUQ7kNvgFcZA_3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYBb1x53eUSkVqyM9bNFtY2Pr0q6BDwlKrY1nW19udTvzw&oe=677A76C0	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-A		2	https://www.facebook.com/61570065204033/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656727	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691949	1748420569		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656871	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691952	1748420569		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106389170250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469689919_503728375320192_5172432241004540907_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nWeDT7XrAFkQ7kNvgH_ZKGL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYCCgFSyFWmpotFnAov_oy2vpoa3XGrP5IElrNTCKwYdmg&oe=677A7478	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656902	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691953	1748420569		2174																										thunderstruckag.com	Get Quote			DCO	New Razors Edge Concaves – #1 for Productivity	Multi-Crop Flexibility	https://thunderstruckag.com/razors-edge-quote/			1.1360907930992E+15	Thunderstruck Ag Equipment	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472198222_9424943250850540_2986714692872428520_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=kx-UPFRc7zQQ7kNvgGYNRvR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYAPwE8J3Mu0tzZPkQiB7igdWxz0q-VGXfUyxCxpEUXLiA&oe=677A5480	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Meet the newest standard in concave technology. Razors Edge Concaves deliver unmatched precision and flow, making your harvest smoother, faster, and more productive.		Thunderstruck Ag Equipment		4996	https://www.facebook.com/thunderstruckag/	0		GET_QUOTE								View Edit Delete
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2656904	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:16 AM	1735691953	1748967381		2174																										thunderstruckag.com	Get Quote			DCO	New Razors Edge Concaves – #1 for Productivity	Multi-Crop Flexibility	https://thunderstruckag.com/razors-edge-quote/			1.1360907930992E+15	Thunderstruck Ag Equipment	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472198222_9424943250850540_2986714692872428520_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=kx-UPFRc7zQQ7kNvgGYNRvR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYAPwE8J3Mu0tzZPkQiB7igdWxz0q-VGXfUyxCxpEUXLiA&oe=677A5480	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Meet the newest standard in concave technology. Razors Edge Concaves deliver unmatched precision and flow, making your harvest smoother, faster, and more productive.		Thunderstruck Ag Equipment		4996	https://www.facebook.com/thunderstruckag/	0		GET_QUOTE								View Edit Delete
2656905	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:32 AM	1735691953	1748968354		2174																										thunderstruckag.com	Get Quote			DCO	New Razors Edge Concaves – #1 for Productivity	Multi-Crop Flexibility	https://thunderstruckag.com/razors-edge-quote/			1.1360907930992E+15	Thunderstruck Ag Equipment	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472198222_9424943250850540_2986714692872428520_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=kx-UPFRc7zQQ7kNvgGYNRvR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYAPwE8J3Mu0tzZPkQiB7igdWxz0q-VGXfUyxCxpEUXLiA&oe=677A5480	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Meet the newest standard in concave technology. Razors Edge Concaves deliver unmatched precision and flow, making your harvest smoother, faster, and more productive.		Thunderstruck Ag Equipment		4996	https://www.facebook.com/thunderstruckag/	0		GET_QUOTE								View Edit Delete
2656960	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:16 AM	1735691956	1748967374		2174																											Send message			IMAGE						1.0031903213421E+14	Boss Babe Beauty Academy & Studio	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472015131_1138707267640117_7961701897184577756_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=r2q1nsHk6voQ7kNvgFFeT3f&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYBB-xD6BJZPP6fITgCvD_RCXzYqrmnbipvhJbOyZGRpjw&oe=677A4CCE	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Sign up for our Body sculpting Masterclass and start your Business today. Certificate con Nuestro Curso de Contorno Corporal en un dia! 3 certifications in our 1 day Master Class✨Body sculpting certification, advanced wood therapy certification, and ice sculpting certification. ☎️(916)562-0552 Cities: 📍Sacramento 📍Fresno 📍Bakersfield 📍LA 📍San Jose ✨✨Take advantage of our $300-$700 Limited Special! This is the moment you have been waiting for to become a boss babe and be part of the fastest-growing beauty industry💖 We have SPANISH and ENGLISH options 👇Techniques you will learn: 🔑hands-on training with a live model 🔑post-op care lymphatic drainage 🔑ultrasonic cavitation 🔑Radio-frequency body and face 🔑Advanced wood therapy body and face 🔑vacuum therapy 🔑laser lipo 🔑vacuum therapy (Brazilian butt lift) 🔑body wraps 🔑metal therapy (package 3) 🔑ice sculpting (package 3) ✨Training includes: 💗training manual 💗consent forms 💗supply list 💗ongoing mentorship 💗sanitation protocols 💗business plan 💗marketing and business tips 💗how I grew a 6 figure business within months 💗my secrets to staying booked EQUIPMENT INCLUDED: ✨9 in 1 cavitation machine ✨butt machine ✨Wood therapy set ✨Metal therapy set ✨ice sculpting CRYO cup and ICE LOTION ✨thermal blankets		Boss Babe Beauty Academy & Studio		1805	https://www.facebook.com/bossbabebeautyacademy/	0		MESSAGE_PAGE								View Edit Delete
2656397	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:16 AM	1735691943	1748967372		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656401	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:16 AM	1735691943	1748967395		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656402	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:16 AM	1735691943	1748967377		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656909	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:17 AM	1735691954	1748967467		2174																										Candle Carving Magic | Vision Boards $30-$50	INTERESTED			EVENT	Candle Carving Magic | Vision Boards $30-$50	Event Info: Date: Sunday, January 5th., 2024 Time: 10:00 a.m. to 2:0 p.m. Location: Seaglass Monthly Market | 5601 Castle Hayne Rd. Castle Hayne NC (Drive around the back of IGA and enter through back (workshop) entrance) Admission: $30 For 1 workshop | $50 for Both Pre-registration required | Only 10 Spots per session On Sunday January 5th, 2025, join us for a day of intentions turned into inspiration. From 10am-2pm you have your choice of THIS or THAT. Vision Boards: Come create art and inspiration based on your goals! Everyone will receive a 16x20 inch foam board to decorate and design for 2025! Magazines, stickers, colored pencils, markers, and glue will be supplied. Feel free to bring anything you have that you would like to add! You will also learn about the new BINGO approach for your New Year’s resolutions!!! Candle Carving Magic: Learn about candle magic and sigil making before carving a large spell candles. After carving your intentions you will then be able to “dress” your candle with oils, herbs, colors to strengthen your intentions. All Supplies for both workshops and Light Refreshments will be provided. Each workshop is $30 each or you can do both for $50!!! About Your Guide: Monica the Maiden Minx Lockard is a natural born intuitive, empath, healer, witch and spiritual therapist and artisan. With over 9 years professional experience she utilizes her universal and eclectic knowledge to help guide and educate curious individuals in a way that is easy to understand. She is available for both in-person and virtual readings and her spiritual artisan products are available in multiple physical locations and online.	https://www.facebook.com/events/864110432342188/			1.0478695217992E+14	Maiden Minx	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471707862_515349898217978_2821302388128801438_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=hoxDSom7KO0Q7kNvgGkN3C6&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYArooxuxTQkfMfjs1W5thvGt2V6viXqNCfs9l2FHSEGlg&oe=677A71ED	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Event Info: Date: Sunday, January 5th., 2024 Time: 10:00 a.m. to 2:0 p.m. Location: Seaglass Monthly Market | 5601 Castle Hayne Rd. Castle Hayne NC (Drive around the back of IGA and enter through back (workshop) entrance) Admission: $30 For 1 workshop | $50 for Both Pre-registration required | Only 10 Spots per session On Sunday January 5th, 2025, join us for a day of intentions turned into inspiration. From 10am-2pm you have your choice of THIS or THAT. Vision Boards: Come create art and inspiration based on your goals! Everyone will receive a 16x20 inch foam board to decorate and design for 2025! Magazines, stickers, colored pencils, markers, and glue will be supplied. Feel free to bring anything you have that you would like to add! You will also learn about the new BINGO approach for your New Year’s resolutions!!! Candle Carving Magic: Learn about candle magic and sigil making before carving a large spell candles. After carving your intentions you will then be able to “dress” your candle with oils, herbs, colors to strengthen your intentions. All Supplies for both workshops and Light Refreshments will be provided. Each workshop is $30 each or you can do both for $50!!! About Your Guide: Monica the Maiden Minx Lockard is a natural born intuitive, empath, healer, witch and spiritual therapist and artisan. With over 9 years professional experience she utilizes her universal and eclectic knowledge to help guide and educate curious individuals in a way that is easy to understand. She is available for both in-person and virtual readings and her spiritual artisan products are available in multiple physical locations and online.		Maiden Minx		308	https://www.facebook.com/maidenminxmysticalboutique/	0		EVENT_RSVP								View Edit Delete
2656415	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:16 AM	1735691943	1748967383		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656417	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:22 AM	1735691943	1748967768		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		New world publications		3781	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656383	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:16 AM	1735691942	1748967387		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16865&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471510284_1123968585334988_567416444404452472_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1sRc3QkQ23IQ7kNvgG4iTg8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AQ0d62V9u_p13RJLMjMgIuS&oh=00_AYCsDL-4n2gV9Xcop_fSG9QjkeZsDoQ1AJiYKbIip7jp9A&oe=677A7852	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband Killian arrived late after my grandmother's funeral because he needed to be there for his first love. He looked like he ran in his wolf form. His hair is a mess, and his tie is not even tied properly. He was breathing so fast that he couldn’t even speak. My face turned blank as I locked gazes with him. “Astrid, I couldn’t leave early because I had something I needed to take care of.” My fists balled up at my sides as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Was there anything else more important than to be on your mate’s side at the time that she needed you the most?” I shot back at him. His eyes met mine and for a fleeting moment, a shadow of remorse flickered across his gaze “If only you hadn’t stopped me that night, I would have still met my grandma while she was still alive.” Killian’s grip on the bouquet tightened when he heard my words. “I had no idea I—“ “I kept telling you that my grandmother needed me!” I yelled, interrupting him from his words. “All you cared about is Giselle who is pre9nant with your child.” I blurted out finally releasing all the emotions that I have buried down long enough. Killian could not say a word. My heart which has always been heavy, felt lighter than it was after I finally told him the things that I’ve been wanting to tell him. I glanced at him in surprise when he suddenly crouched down and placed the bouquet of flowers that he brought on the ground where my grandmother had just been buried. “I only came here to pay my respects to your grandmother. I’m sorry if I was late, that was out of my control,” Killian replied like he didn’t just hear the rest of the words that I said. My breath turned shallow and my heart burned more in anger at his heartlessness. Unable to control myself anymore, I picked up the flowers and thrashed them on Killian until the flowers were all shredded into pieces. “You are here to pay respect?!” I screamed at him. I threw what was left of the flowers to the ground. “I’m tired of this. If you can’t give me respect, I should at least give myself some respect,” I spoke in a weak voice as I collected myself together. “Let’s just stop this joke and get a divorce,” I spoke firmly, looking at Killian directly in his eyes.		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656384	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:27 AM	1735691942	1748968038		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16865&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471436633_1111178080715589_6348095694429870959_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=F9irVar487UQ7kNvgGCw8PW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AQ0d62V9u_p13RJLMjMgIuS&oh=00_AYASU_XNH5ev5RnuXnbF1aDVCXcqHj8dusLltafZCpu5Ew&oe=677A5C53	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband Killian arrived late after my grandmother's funeral because he needed to be there for his first love. He looked like he ran in his wolf form. His hair is a mess, and his tie is not even tied properly. He was breathing so fast that he couldn’t even speak. My face turned blank as I locked gazes with him. “Astrid, I couldn’t leave early because I had something I needed to take care of.” My fists balled up at my sides as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Was there anything else more important than to be on your mate’s side at the time that she needed you the most?” I shot back at him. His eyes met mine and for a fleeting moment, a shadow of remorse flickered across his gaze “If only you hadn’t stopped me that night, I would have still met my grandma while she was still alive.” Killian’s grip on the bouquet tightened when he heard my words. “I had no idea I—“ “I kept telling you that my grandmother needed me!” I yelled, interrupting him from his words. “All you cared about is Giselle who is pre9nant with your child.” I blurted out finally releasing all the emotions that I have buried down long enough. Killian could not say a word. My heart which has always been heavy, felt lighter than it was after I finally told him the things that I’ve been wanting to tell him. I glanced at him in surprise when he suddenly crouched down and placed the bouquet of flowers that he brought on the ground where my grandmother had just been buried. “I only came here to pay my respects to your grandmother. I’m sorry if I was late, that was out of my control,” Killian replied like he didn’t just hear the rest of the words that I said. My breath turned shallow and my heart burned more in anger at his heartlessness. Unable to control myself anymore, I picked up the flowers and thrashed them on Killian until the flowers were all shredded into pieces. “You are here to pay respect?!” I screamed at him. I threw what was left of the flowers to the ground. “I’m tired of this. If you can’t give me respect, I should at least give myself some respect,” I spoke in a weak voice as I collected myself together. “Let’s just stop this joke and get a divorce,” I spoke firmly, looking at Killian directly in his eyes.		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656385	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:31 AM	1735691942	1748968263		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16865&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471412396_900119832336335_6739113221612760215_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=2CG-nzWISkAQ7kNvgFWZs7x&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYA5sJj1MSPE0tBTSIJtVOhkbVT5ND0oF4q6EzzQ0Rd9yg&oe=677A5DBB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband Killian arrived late after my grandmother's funeral because he needed to be there for his first love. He looked like he ran in his wolf form. His hair is a mess, and his tie is not even tied properly. He was breathing so fast that he couldn’t even speak. My face turned blank as I locked gazes with him. “Astrid, I couldn’t leave early because I had something I needed to take care of.” My fists balled up at my sides as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Was there anything else more important than to be on your mate’s side at the time that she needed you the most?” I shot back at him. His eyes met mine and for a fleeting moment, a shadow of remorse flickered across his gaze “If only you hadn’t stopped me that night, I would have still met my grandma while she was still alive.” Killian’s grip on the bouquet tightened when he heard my words. “I had no idea I—“ “I kept telling you that my grandmother needed me!” I yelled, interrupting him from his words. “All you cared about is Giselle who is pre9nant with your child.” I blurted out finally releasing all the emotions that I have buried down long enough. Killian could not say a word. My heart which has always been heavy, felt lighter than it was after I finally told him the things that I’ve been wanting to tell him. I glanced at him in surprise when he suddenly crouched down and placed the bouquet of flowers that he brought on the ground where my grandmother had just been buried. “I only came here to pay my respects to your grandmother. I’m sorry if I was late, that was out of my control,” Killian replied like he didn’t just hear the rest of the words that I said. My breath turned shallow and my heart burned more in anger at his heartlessness. Unable to control myself anymore, I picked up the flowers and thrashed them on Killian until the flowers were all shredded into pieces. “You are here to pay respect?!” I screamed at him. I threw what was left of the flowers to the ground. “I’m tired of this. If you can’t give me respect, I should at least give myself some respect,” I spoke in a weak voice as I collected myself together. “Let’s just stop this joke and get a divorce,” I spoke firmly, looking at Killian directly in his eyes.		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656792	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:16 AM	1735691951	1748967372		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656791	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:16 AM	1735691950	1748967385		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656814	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:30 AM	1735691951	1748968225		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBghTC_-ZAyCm726ul_FwOaF4adxdq2NPTxCPjDeZ2PWg&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656819	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:24 AM	1735691951	1748967888		2174																										worldfootballshirtes.com	Order now			VIDEO	💥$19.9💥All club jerseys on sale!	Ten years of experience in making jerseys, receiving praise from countless customers around the world!	https://worldfootballshirtes.com/			4.7791890874629E+14	Worldfootball-Shirt	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471540448_1294903475092216_1026773833483252331_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=YLxFCvOR3R4Q7kNvgHeVfIq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBM6hJTOcDP6sVHPjZvLUt4ksNfKk4EBTXJxnbPMWmQ8A&oe=677A6A18	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		⚽️⚽️ It's more than just a jersey. It's a statement. 🎁Bringing low-price benefits to every fan! ✅Lowest prices in history for all jerseys ✅All club jerseys on sale		Worldfootball-Shirt		1	https://www.facebook.com/61571172003174/	0		ORDER_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656820	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:16 AM	1735691951	1748967380		2174																										worldfootballshirtes.com	Order now			VIDEO	💥$19.9💥All club jerseys on sale!	Ten years of experience in making jerseys, receiving praise from countless customers around the world!	https://worldfootballshirtes.com/			4.7791890874629E+14	Worldfootball-Shirt	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471757054_597188812796696_5093901267571520190_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M3Pv_koTP40Q7kNvgHk9go2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBYN92ybTcb6FANftEJg_c10dLqSBjvxPnmfz-fmL2b0A&oe=677A77B6	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		⚽️⚽️ It's more than just a jersey. It's a statement. 🎁Bringing low-price benefits to every fan! ✅Lowest prices in history for all jerseys ✅All club jerseys on sale		Worldfootball-Shirt		1	https://www.facebook.com/61571172003174/	0		ORDER_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656821	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:35 AM	1735691951	1748968550		2174																										worldfootballshirtes.com	Order now			VIDEO	💥$19.9💥All club jerseys on sale!	Ten years of experience in making jerseys, receiving praise from countless customers around the world!	https://worldfootballshirtes.com/			4.7791890874629E+14	Worldfootball-Shirt	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472015169_1586242775615635_3924908707551129630_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=jnR81k3PVhcQ7kNvgEmf91-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYDzmQQbkHZqFiXyE0J0HpK3tZ1LGWRezszVb0TRYZ_gZg&oe=677A6714	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		⚽️⚽️ It's more than just a jersey. It's a statement. 🎁Bringing low-price benefits to every fan! ✅Lowest prices in history for all jerseys ✅All club jerseys on sale		Worldfootball-Shirt		1	https://www.facebook.com/61571172003174/	0		ORDER_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656823	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 7:18 PM	1735691951	1749255525		2174																										maersk.com	Learn More			DCO	Easy peak season booking	Booking Maersk Spot online is easy and can be done at anytime from anywhere. See our guide for detailed steps on how to book using PC and mobile.	https://www.maersk.com/support/faqs/book-maersk-spot?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=paid_social_conversion&utm_campaign=NAM_MCO_TRA_EN_OS_TBM_INTEGRATED_Q4_2024_448982&utm_term=&utm_content=nam-integreated-spot-meta-usa			1.906389676457E+14	Maersk	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470647843_944522454406853_3216293876702318043_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NdJI71czoUMQ7kNvgHDP9XC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBN6ASiU2l2HwK0MnWJJucX05xoQNhYJmIK4ZXZ9LBSlw&oe=677A64F5	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Our how-to videos guide you through every step, from securing your space to selecting value-added services.		Maersk		3061459	https://www.facebook.com/Maersk/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656828	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 8:53 PM	1735691951	1749174828		2174																										vistasocial.com	Sign Up			DCO	Effortless Social Media Management at Scale	{{product.description}}	http://vistasocial.com/			1.0910793812019E+14	Vista Social	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471842194_3386451841663530_7025985837482265277_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M9rNS0HYDRwQ7kNvgHcYwp0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYCarSO-tgCArMQFu_N624CD6-GqOhaeJP1GTKEvfel75Q&oe=677A4DFA	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Social media's best-kept secret for brands and agencies that mean business!		Vista Social		404	https://www.facebook.com/vistasocialapp/	0		SIGN_UP								View Edit Delete
2656832	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691951	1748420569		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106318140250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469822057_2065742500545648_6651658188915045395_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4HOZZvwrOpoQ7kNvgEl-Ipv&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBJkbUihgQbi98rsCqfE5FXa8tH2bHTfN5AW8Z0YCBuCw&oe=677A589D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656835	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 12:07 AM	1735691951	1749186444		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214134980480250			4.6358262017968E+14	Hello reading-A	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469946503_1733109167250197_859520501711980500_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=c9CcGTg_2voQ7kNvgGhWTkM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYC8Oro8VMT2j1Tv1QkTYrX-McdWr-vcmk04DpEU9hIpTw&oe=677A4693	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-A		2	https://www.facebook.com/61570065204033/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656837	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691951	1748420569		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106510320250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469639092_1327121328467472_1595421730831110156_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xFpOR1lRtRoQ7kNvgG9MBhV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYDyKmDnvGjNM1-tdGrCmRktLWH3NISHrnhujVWpzxIS1g&oe=677A70A1	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656840	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 8:53 PM	1735691952	1749174788		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106310480250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469829555_1290677215297909_1161837077645332118_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5pVEhnFfiPsQ7kNvgF13s_U&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAZJkA5nM1RUL2r62W35lo2bKmlUPq6pBQbIs86qJYkDw&oe=677A4C5A	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656577	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 7:18 PM	1735691947	1749773893		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYA269s4quSOiqVLx8eBkMe3YBoyyG45zlXIxHq2rCC0SQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656756	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 9:30 AM	1735691950	1749738623		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=arVAwv0q7qUQ7kNvgHZBV72&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYCd-Gd05rSfOGGRrZLAvEU6ORCohMppFPow6L1_9dmeAw&oe=677A50EC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656729	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 5:06 AM	1735691949	1749204401		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656506	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 7:19 AM	1735691945	1749212389		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471264942_603239329024650_4741924814571806076_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=67oPy5kCorwQ7kNvgHQQylN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDgQu7fXbhXnZEwxve8vDXuSwvrhko6yzGgr8iaECgCug&oe=677A5157	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656735	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420569		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656737	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420569		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656450	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 8:10 PM	1735691944	1749172226		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656524	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 7:29 AM	1735691946	1749212941		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=KNfoxxyfdQYQ7kNvgEY98gl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYAIDhaRyteVODC3YHFetfKo0xjGV2NLeNkXI-SFyLGuqw&oe=677A603D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656859	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 9:01 AM	1735691952	1749218477		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106548110250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469710614_3908106389455822_2400185979815837409_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vTxn3MFXERAQ7kNvgEmK-zM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYAF1TylFKJPo5tANiwq_7LovV11zc187nchxQzKUbYkCA&oe=677A78BB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656427	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:18 AM	1735691943	1748967497		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656872	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 7:48 AM	1735691952	1749214128		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106429400250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469561390_565876176396823_1479220432793231973_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HgSjZdfiVa0Q7kNvgEtGtOF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYCuZ_S2qJp_pUKuA5pcJ6FSVkoifhZ7h04XLfQ6H_28Nw&oe=677A66F0	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656558	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 9:11 AM	1735691946	1749219065		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656460	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 6:16 PM	1735691944	1749165404		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656533	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 8:04 AM	1735691946	1749215097		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656734	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 8:12 AM	1735691949	1749215536		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656838	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 8:38 AM	1735691951	1749217081		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214047046330250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469343915_551040331099682_5532870370222940560_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=KxzUXBPkBgIQ7kNvgFTmdEr&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYDCdjOJlnakFx_1VPfUDP3zJAKuy5Yf1VKPGejqbHoBeg&oe=677A6240	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656535	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 8:42 AM	1735691946	1749217325		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656740	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 8:45 AM	1735691950	1749217518		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656520	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 10:55 AM	1735691945	1749225305		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=KNfoxxyfdQYQ7kNvgEY98gl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYAIDhaRyteVODC3YHFetfKo0xjGV2NLeNkXI-SFyLGuqw&oe=677A603D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656481	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 8:32 PM	1735691944	1749259931		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470241840_932234578693151_7015915272580763584_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=AtOyjlVTsrAQ7kNvgGIELZ4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYDCXHvOAqQ5wb7tJT5HqLJhPn48LnXolgmmWXHT9pDo0g&oe=677A597E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656929	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 7:33 PM	1735691955	1749170011		2174																										linktr.ee	Learn more			VIDEO			http://linktr.ee/elevatemusictogether			1.5076428328598E+15	Elevate Music Together	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472196334_520447001012976_3833848527893451455_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=biMqQKWBO3AQ7kNvgH0V4wV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYAJJyl3p2cPU6Mz7gVECRc-veJdH8BL5WwJGU8GZ0l-PA&oe=677A6ACD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🎙️Registration for our Winter Term is Now Open!⁠ ⁠ 🎶Our music and movement classes for ages 0-8 are now open to ALL for registration -- join us as we explore the Music Together® Drum Collection & Rhythm Kids Tiger Collections this Winter!⁠ ⁠ ✨ 9-week session, 45 min classes⁠ ✨singing, dancing, educational, community building⁠ ✨2 locations, 3 teachers, and 9 classes to choose from⁠ ✨cd, illustrated songbook, and digital download code⁠ .⁠ ⁠ 🚩Classes starting January 13through March 20⁠ .⁠ 👀 See you there!!⁠ .⁠ 🥁 Try a sample class? Link in Bio!🥁⁠ .⁠ We can’t wait to make music with you this Winter!⁠		Elevate Music Together		583	https://www.facebook.com/elevatemusictogether/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656951	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/1/25, 2:42 AM	1735691956	1748763749		2174																										instagram.com	Visit Instagram profile			IMAGE	instagram.com		http://instagram.com/acbarbershop24			4.9044072081014E+14	AC Barbershop	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472136974_585006360804939_4422499359048959073_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0knsppArijEQ7kNvgGiRW6q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYAuJAMYKZ75oKhVBVg-SCnOuMGWFPK5uwAA__XP1RqcRQ&oe=677A707B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Come get ready for your New Year’s Celebration!🎉 You still have time !! WE ARE OPEN TILL 6PM TODAY 🚨CLOSED TOMORROW 🚨		AC Barbershop		8	https://www.facebook.com/Acbarbershopp/	0		VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE								View Edit Delete
2656757	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 9:07 PM	1735691950	1749175655		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=arVAwv0q7qUQ7kNvgHZBV72&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYCd-Gd05rSfOGGRrZLAvEU6ORCohMppFPow6L1_9dmeAw&oe=677A50EC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656776	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 10:05 PM	1735691950	1749179111		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656913	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 5:59 PM	1735691954	1749250751		2174																											Send message			MULTI_IMAGES						2.46668692077E+14	El Drip Ciudad Acuña	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472308724_617452867373828_4916204124080363428_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=AVsQs50F_mUQ7kNvgH7fLBa&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYDmVafHPp0S9EoKSFlKBnosTzwYqYUjIJruacf1WX-HeQ&oe=677A53CB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🔥Nuevo Stock AMERICAN FIGHTER🔥 ▪️Playeras tallas XS a 4XL👕 ▪️Pantalones tallas desde 27 a 42👖 ▪️Sudaderas, suéteres, chamarras 🥶 ▪️Gorras, boinas‼️🧢 🎖️OFRECEMOS: ✅Servicio a domicilio 🚗 ✅Aceptamos tarjetas & transferencias 💳 ✅Envíos por paquetería DHL 🚚📦 ✅Cotizamos precios a mayoristas 🛍️🎖️ 📍Blvd Adolfo López Mateos 1015 col Benito Juárez (por la frutería Pérez)		El Drip Ciudad Acuña		3673	https://www.facebook.com/100066769005987/	0		MESSAGE_PAGE								View Edit Delete
2656839	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 5:30 PM	1735691951	1749249025		2174																										fbweb.kifflire.com	Learn more			IMAGE	Cliquez ici pour en savoir plus👉👉		https://fbweb.kifflire.com/19382410-fb_contact-frr25_2-0821-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=988990472648534&rawadid=120212492281810705			4.8124148173477E+14	Loving reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470578529_1158871912235821_6853118765118251752_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yCEQtBpwK1cQ7kNvgGWJJWL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYA60OIwU_SwfcRJMEg1OWTYV9khRWjrxnMlE62R4cE7lg&oe=677A6A3E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Lorsqu'elle a appris qu'elle était enceinte, Jenessa était folle de joie. Jenessa s'est empressée de prendre son téléphone pour appeler Ryan Haynes, son mari, tout excitée à l'idée de partager cette merveilleuse nouvelle. Quand on parle du loup, on voit sa queue. C'était un message de Ryan. Il disait : « Viens tout de suite à l'hôtel Imodon. » Jenessa était perplexe, mais n'a pas hésité longtemps. Elle a hélé un taxi et s'est directement rendue à l'hôtel. Comme Ryan voulait la voir, elle pensait qu'elle pouvait aussi bien lui annoncer la bonne nouvelle en personne. Dès qu'elle est descendue de voiture, elle a remarqué que le hall d'entrée était orné de fleurs et d'un tapis rouge flambant neuf, manifestement préparé pour une célébration. Jenessa s'est arrêtée, momentanément stupéfaite, avant de se rappeler que c'était aujourd'hui leur anniversaire de mariage. Se pourrait-il que Ryan lui avait demandé de venir ici pour lui faire une surprise ? Il ne lui a pas fallu longtemps pour repérer l'homme à la beauté éblouissante qui se détachait facilement de la foule. Alors qu'un sourire se dessinait sur ses lèvres, elle a aperçu la femme qui se tenait à côté de Ryan, et son sourire s'est figé. Premier amour de Ryan, Maisie Powell ! Des amis les entouraient et semblaient les féliciter. Ryan gardait son sang-froid, mais un sourire indéniable se dessinait à la commissure de ses lèvres. À côté de lui, Maisie a baissé la tête et rougi timidement. Cette scène d'amour était tellement flagrante qu'elle a transpercé le cœur de Jenessa. Pourquoi Ryan l'avait-il appelée ? Était-ce juste un stratagème pour qu'elle soit témoin de leur affection et qu'elle cède gracieusement sa place de femme à sa Maisie bien-aimée ? Le cœur lourd, elle a choisi de le libérer et de partir. Lorsqu'ils se sont revus, l'attention de Ryan a été attirée par le ventre proéminent de Jenessa. « Tu portes le bébé de qui ? » « Ça ne te regarde pas, mon cher ex-mari ! » &6&		Loving reading		761	https://www.facebook.com/61567813351718/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656794	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 7:50 PM	1735691951	1749171037		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656879	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 4:10 PM	1735691952	1749244256		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214047092710250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469298287_1130459688422609_4542170671190817934_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7wKOes4AioQ7kNvgHP4PDn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYCqnzPIEv0rd3NxE1JRHsuOgThQfH5uOQZblqEOYPq0sg&oe=677A743F	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656888	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 5:42 PM	1735691953	1749249729		2174																										fbweb.kifflire.com	Learn more			IMAGE	Cliquez ici pour en savoir plus👉👉		https://fbweb.kifflire.com/19382410-fb_contact-frr25_2-0821-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=988990472648534&rawadid=120212492254150705			4.8124148173477E+14	Loving reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470678837_1395002485239916_5334055441458632793_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9qQPQzVdy9oQ7kNvgFSYflp&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYDt9O9X8TRX9hEtFtsymxUrVz8R9qQLd07JZYfCkkIqjA&oe=677A73EC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Lorsqu'elle a appris qu'elle était enceinte, Jenessa était folle de joie. Jenessa s'est empressée de prendre son téléphone pour appeler Ryan Haynes, son mari, tout excitée à l'idée de partager cette merveilleuse nouvelle. Quand on parle du loup, on voit sa queue. C'était un message de Ryan. Il disait : « Viens tout de suite à l'hôtel Imodon. » Jenessa était perplexe, mais n'a pas hésité longtemps. Elle a hélé un taxi et s'est directement rendue à l'hôtel. Comme Ryan voulait la voir, elle pensait qu'elle pouvait aussi bien lui annoncer la bonne nouvelle en personne. Dès qu'elle est descendue de voiture, elle a remarqué que le hall d'entrée était orné de fleurs et d'un tapis rouge flambant neuf, manifestement préparé pour une célébration. Jenessa s'est arrêtée, momentanément stupéfaite, avant de se rappeler que c'était aujourd'hui leur anniversaire de mariage. Se pourrait-il que Ryan lui avait demandé de venir ici pour lui faire une surprise ? Il ne lui a pas fallu longtemps pour repérer l'homme à la beauté éblouissante qui se détachait facilement de la foule. Alors qu'un sourire se dessinait sur ses lèvres, elle a aperçu la femme qui se tenait à côté de Ryan, et son sourire s'est figé. Premier amour de Ryan, Maisie Powell ! Des amis les entouraient et semblaient les féliciter. Ryan gardait son sang-froid, mais un sourire indéniable se dessinait à la commissure de ses lèvres. À côté de lui, Maisie a baissé la tête et rougi timidement. Cette scène d'amour était tellement flagrante qu'elle a transpercé le cœur de Jenessa. Pourquoi Ryan l'avait-il appelée ? Était-ce juste un stratagème pour qu'elle soit témoin de leur affection et qu'elle cède gracieusement sa place de femme à sa Maisie bien-aimée ? Le cœur lourd, elle a choisi de le libérer et de partir. Lorsqu'ils se sont revus, l'attention de Ryan a été attirée par le ventre proéminent de Jenessa. « Tu portes le bébé de qui ? » « Ça ne te regarde pas, mon cher ex-mari ! » &6&		Loving reading		761	https://www.facebook.com/61567813351718/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656382	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 5:44 PM	1735691942	1749249865		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16865&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471436633_1111178080715589_6348095694429870959_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=F9irVar487UQ7kNvgGCw8PW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AQ0d62V9u_p13RJLMjMgIuS&oh=00_AYASU_XNH5ev5RnuXnbF1aDVCXcqHj8dusLltafZCpu5Ew&oe=677A5C53	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband Killian arrived late after my grandmother's funeral because he needed to be there for his first love. He looked like he ran in his wolf form. His hair is a mess, and his tie is not even tied properly. He was breathing so fast that he couldn’t even speak. My face turned blank as I locked gazes with him. “Astrid, I couldn’t leave early because I had something I needed to take care of.” My fists balled up at my sides as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Was there anything else more important than to be on your mate’s side at the time that she needed you the most?” I shot back at him. His eyes met mine and for a fleeting moment, a shadow of remorse flickered across his gaze “If only you hadn’t stopped me that night, I would have still met my grandma while she was still alive.” Killian’s grip on the bouquet tightened when he heard my words. “I had no idea I—“ “I kept telling you that my grandmother needed me!” I yelled, interrupting him from his words. “All you cared about is Giselle who is pre9nant with your child.” I blurted out finally releasing all the emotions that I have buried down long enough. Killian could not say a word. My heart which has always been heavy, felt lighter than it was after I finally told him the things that I’ve been wanting to tell him. I glanced at him in surprise when he suddenly crouched down and placed the bouquet of flowers that he brought on the ground where my grandmother had just been buried. “I only came here to pay my respects to your grandmother. I’m sorry if I was late, that was out of my control,” Killian replied like he didn’t just hear the rest of the words that I said. My breath turned shallow and my heart burned more in anger at his heartlessness. Unable to control myself anymore, I picked up the flowers and thrashed them on Killian until the flowers were all shredded into pieces. “You are here to pay respect?!” I screamed at him. I threw what was left of the flowers to the ground. “I’m tired of this. If you can’t give me respect, I should at least give myself some respect,” I spoke in a weak voice as I collected myself together. “Let’s just stop this joke and get a divorce,” I spoke firmly, looking at Killian directly in his eyes.		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656438	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 5:44 PM	1735691944	1749249898		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656953	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 12:48 AM	1735691956	1749188932		2174																										bobhowardhonda.com	Shop Now			CAROUSEL	New Honda Accord SE	Click for Details	https://www.bobhowardhonda.com/new-vehicles/accord/			104713140940	Bob Howard Honda	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472032766_1130927171802769_8500132279913307109_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=P26FCHUP5_EQ7kNvgHxOr_h&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYCTSP9OsKWb_u_r-I9Y8Xb3cPd69dfQUZ9TAadZx8utTw&oe=677A6D0D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Click for Details		Bob Howard Honda		3573	https://www.facebook.com/BobHowardHonda/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
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2656956	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 1:15 PM	1735691956	1749233759		2174																										bobhowardhonda.com	Shop Now			CAROUSEL	New Honda Accord SE	Click for Details	https://www.bobhowardhonda.com/new-vehicles/accord/			104713140940	Bob Howard Honda	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472032766_1130927171802769_8500132279913307109_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=P26FCHUP5_EQ7kNvgHxOr_h&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYCTSP9OsKWb_u_r-I9Y8Xb3cPd69dfQUZ9TAadZx8utTw&oe=677A6D0D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Click for Details		Bob Howard Honda		3573	https://www.facebook.com/BobHowardHonda/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656959	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 6:13 PM	1735691956	1749165215		2174																											Send message			IMAGE						3.0364162964821E+14	Fishing the Midwest	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471983456_2012804632527929_6806044073925368572_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Sn-brfRYv-oQ7kNvgGPh14K&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYB-7erNDbvVa1DL8VG7NzFuyHlfG02WJhzppnkw8Cp2dw&oe=677A511A	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		BIG NEWS! Fishing the Midwest TV is back on Sportsman Channel! Get ready for non-stop fishing action, expert tips & epic battles! Tune in now and reel in the excitement!		Fishing the Midwest		21270	https://www.facebook.com/fishingthemidwest/	0		MESSAGE_PAGE								View Edit Delete
2656830	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 4:24 PM	1735691951	1749245084		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214047040820250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469351971_1027040642512376_6748046439618851106_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=eEp7y_DTvIQQ7kNvgHLmz2z&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYA54GWzm8cIBcAmCowI6qUS1yAeBrDuyadVztPkY8TD0A&oe=677A5B24	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656931	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 5:50 PM	1735691955	1749250210		2174																										ticketon.com	Shop Now			DCO	COMPRA TUS BOLETOS	{{product.description}}	https://ticketon.com/events/rogelio-ramos-en-tx-mission-tx-2025-01-09-uw50dkswxfk0?code=A6otNx			333988739516	Rogelio Ramos Show	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472016175_9033989390014419_8984823153620843106_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yjj2G4pwZlEQ7kNvgEYJ4UQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYAwGa0QwAtaqWVkpbh5OmlvbHapAznKBaTv67zchDWLuQ&oe=677A70DD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		📣MISSION, TEXAS📣 PORQUE USTEDES LO PIDIERON: Regreso el JUE/9 DE ENERO 🙌 en el LADA 52 con mi show ''Prohibido No Reír'' 🙅🤣👌 Vayan a divertirse un rato, se van a reir de principio a fin! 🎟️Boletos ya a la venta por TICKETON!		Rogelio Ramos Show		1750079	https://www.facebook.com/RogelioRamosShow/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656916	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 5:53 PM	1735691954	1749250393		2174																										metarlight.com	Shop Now			CAROUSEL	Great gift for a pilot!		https://www.metarlight.com/product-page/15in-custom-sectional-chart-clock			3.1670065153095E+14	MetarLight	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471915791_1114133537165592_1606478616393046977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cwX6Mamjve8Q7kNvgE210m0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYCqUIKRWtKYM1Pnq_F4KtCG7t-8ZANpSViEAqE6ZuVpYA&oe=677A521E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0				MetarLight		148	https://www.facebook.com/metarlight/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656846	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 4:48 PM	1735691952	1749246513		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214135137260250			4.6358262017968E+14	Hello reading-A	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469662695_1804307143442619_883385844676583929_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=RG9YzZEYoFUQ7kNvgFcpPZc&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYBPzjP1gwz9thmrlw0uSndHpQpaZq6dxWGH3gNUxsd4iA&oe=677A6C3B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-A		2	https://www.facebook.com/61570065204033/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656869	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 4:48 PM	1735691952	1749246521		2174																										fbweb.cdreader.com	Learn more			VIDEO	閱讀下一章👉		https://fbweb.cdreader.com/130853449-fb_contact-ft-p103_2-c2-1128-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=809076924536970&rawadid=120215590396070134			4.7515149567892E+14	Love reading - A	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469038722_1329258141566771_2871173958966700902_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=92nZaebvtaMQ7kNvgE4ompB&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYBnysDaxNTVzVqwD0HC8XL-b-sYL5D_8e-CQPD0mVwzCg&oe=677A6385	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		她愛上拯救她的陌生男人，卻得知他竟然就是拿她父親貪污案做墊腳石上位的新任市長！血海深仇，她毅然離去，男人卻瘋了，滿城尋她求原諒！ ===== “季小姐，出來吧，你叔叔已經將你五十萬賣給我了，以後跟著我吃香喝辣，你什麼活也不用幹，只管敞開腿伺候就成。” 轟隆聲響起，暴雨傾盆而下，一道閃電劈開長夜照亮了男人肥肉橫生的猥瑣面孔，他半邊臉擠在門框上變了形，眼神卻不停往門縫裡瞄。 房間內，季靈希渾身發抖的死死抵著門。 “滾……滾啊！！”她崩潰大喊，“我有未婚夫，他不會放過你的！” “未婚夫？你是說那位許家孫少爺？”男人爆發出嘲笑，“怎麼？季小姐不會還不知道自己早已經被退婚了吧？嗤，被玩膩的破鞋，還裝什麼矜持！” 說完，他肥豬一般的龐大身軀猛然往脆弱的門上一撞！ “啊！”季靈希被突然劇震的門板嚇到後退，雙手顫抖，“退婚？不可能，不可能……” 可真的不可能嗎？ 自從一個月前，季靈希的父親被誣陷貪汙腐敗入獄，母親車禍後昏迷不醒，整個季氏家族就走向了衰亡。 鉅額家產被全部凍結清算，一夜之間，她從千金小姐變成了負債上億的乞丐。 明天她所在的這套房子也要被查封，她是來取最後的行李的，卻正好被那二叔拿捏了行蹤，居然要乘機將她賣給這將近五十歲的死肥豬男！ 眾叛親離，她徹底一無所有了！ 門外，那死肥豬男的不耐煩的聲音再次傳來：“老子可沒耐心陪你玩小兔子乖乖的開門遊戲，去！讓人把鑰匙送上來！” 他有鑰匙！ 季靈希猝然白了臉，一旦門被破開，結局可想而知。 到時候就算是被侵犯致死都沒人會來替她收屍！ 逃！ 季靈希腦海裡只剩下這一個念頭。 身後窗戶大開，狂風裹挾著暴雨入侵，溼透的窗簾翻飛，天際電蛇狂舞，雷聲轟鳴。 她含著淚一咬牙，猛地衝到了窗前。 二樓而已，摔不死！ 縱身一躍—— 在大腦都壓根沒反應過來之前，人已經滾落在了地面草坪上，渾身溼透沾著汙泥。 “嘶！”說不出到底是哪疼，總之通身都像是要摔散架一般。 “人呢？”“翻窗跑了！”聲音從二樓傳來。 季靈希立刻胡亂爬起來，逃命時腎上激素的飆升讓她爆發出無與倫比的潛力。 逃，快逃，快逃啊！ 她趁著夜色和暴雨的掩蓋，就這樣生生衝出了灌木叢生的後院，往路口奔跑而去。 與此同時，馬路盡頭一輛黑色紅旗飛馳而來，車燈射穿雨幕，照在了突然出現，試圖橫穿馬路的黑影身上！ “我去！”司機沒忍住爆了一聲粗口，猛踩剎車的同時狂打方向盤。 後座衣衫考究的斯文男人猝不及防被巨大的慣性所挾持，一腦袋撞在了前座靠背上。 “砰”一聲悶響。 司機頓時魂飛魄散，“市市……市長先生！你沒事吧！？” 男人黑著臉，“你應該問問被你撞的人有沒有事。”說完，他推門下車查看。 黑色傘面被暴雨沖刷，男人腳踩一雙高定皮鞋，踏著汙水來到昏倒在地的女人面前。 司機哭喪著臉，“我明明踩剎車了，好像沒撞到她啊？” “不是你撞的。”男人一眼看出端倪，冷笑了聲，“碰瓷？膽子倒大。” 說完，他冷漠收回目光，轉身就走。 “等等……”剛剛還“昏迷”不醒的女人突然出聲，伸出一隻髒兮兮的手，飛快地拽住了男人剪裁利落乾淨的褲腳，抬起臉虛弱道：“別走，他們在追我，求你救、救我……” 這個聲音…… 男人腳步一頓，回過頭來，漆黑的眸子居高臨下看清了車燈下那張沾著泥土的臉，瞳孔驟縮。 “這、這不是孫少爺的未婚妻嗎！是市長先生您的侄媳婦啊！”司機率先驚叫。 “呵，”男人語調嘲諷，“我侄媳婦？” 他們在說什、什麼……什麼市長媳婦的…… 季靈希眼前男人的臉早就化作重影，耳邊一片嗡嗡，逃到這裡已經耗盡了她所有的力氣，到最後也只能全憑本能的死死抓著那塊一絲一線都昂貴至極的“救命稻草”不放。 男人似乎蹲下了身，但季靈希已經徹底支撐不住，昏厥了過去。 第2章 私人醫生 再醒來是在陌生的房間，窗外是炫目的白晝。 床邊穿著白大褂的醫生正在收拾工具，見季靈希睜眼，立刻高呼：“先生，人醒了！” 男人很快推門進來，對上了床上女人一雙迷茫受驚的小鹿般的眼，眼底是深刻的防備和恐懼。 他走近床邊，“醒了？燒退了嗎？” 冰冰冷冷，有點熟悉的聲音，更熟悉的是那張面無表情的臉。 “……許先生？”季靈希認出人，瞪大眼睛，“怎麼是你？” 這個男人她認識，是她的患者。 季靈希大學一畢業就入職了京市第一人民醫院心內科，許盛廷是她接手的第一個病人。 但神奇的是，許盛廷患有的並非是任何心臟類疾病，而是應該歸屬為精神科的睡眠障礙。 他患有嚴重失眠症，入睡困難，曾有過長達一個月未合過眼，最後暈厥在辦公室的記錄，他的上一位心理醫生對他束手無措，可機緣巧合下，卻發現許盛廷對季靈希的聲音有特殊反應，能依靠她的聲音睡著！ 於是他便被轉到了季靈希名下，成為了一個“特殊”病人。 這段時間的變故讓季靈希分身乏術，醫院那邊不得已請了長假，倒是許久沒有為許盛廷催眠了。 季靈希看著男人那張過分英俊的臉，高挺的鼻樑在臉頰落下陰影，嘴唇偏薄顯得不近人情，一雙冷靜威嚴的鷹眸底下，卻掛著兩個煞風景的黑眼圈。 眼睛裡也有不少紅血絲，顯然是太久沒能休息，精神高度緊繃造成的。 “謝謝許先生救了我。”季靈希坐起身，小臉脆弱蒼白。 回想起暈倒前的一切，她沒想到豁出性命的一次“碰瓷”，居然正好碰到了熟人身上！ 不幸中的萬幸。 “不客氣，我也很慶幸沒有背上一條人命。”許盛廷確認她已經退燒後，便讓醫生離開了，自己則順勢坐在了醫生的位置上。 “抱歉……”季靈希羞愧垂眼，“我不得不那樣。” 她尷尬的雙手絞著衣角，卻突然意識到自己身上的衣服已經換了。 也是，渾身溼乎乎髒兮兮的，怎麼上床？ 可是誰給她換的？不會是…… “昨晚是讓保姆給你洗的澡，換了衣服。”許盛廷見她呆呆地盯著衣服出神，臉還越來越紅，就猜到了她在想什麼。 “謝、謝謝。”被看穿心裡所想，季靈希更羞恥了。 好在許盛廷沒再繼續計較，而是突然提起另一件事：“你是不打算回醫院了嗎？” “短時間內我可能確實回不去了。”她實話實說。 醫院的工作需要花費大量時間和全部精力，但工資對於現在的她來說卻是杯水車薪，再加上父親的冤屈還未洗刷，季靈希不能把時間全部交代在那裡。 許盛廷的表情更冷了，“那你的病人怎麼辦？半途而廢，季醫生未免太不負責。” 什麼病人，他分明就是在說他自己！ 季靈希低下頭，“如果許先生需要催眠的話，可以隨時聯繫我，能來我一定來。” 也算是報答他這次的救命之恩了。 “是嗎？可你的電話打不通，消息也一直未讀。” 季靈希一愣，想起了什麼，尷尬道：“抱歉，我的手機不久前壞了……”被那群追債的砸了，還沒來得及買新的。 許盛廷皺了皺眉，顯然也想到了現下季靈希的狼狽，他沒有多問，只是叫了人進來吩咐了什麼，很快那人出去又進來，手裡多了一部手機。 許盛廷把手機交給季靈希，“以後用這個聯繫。” “啊？”怎麼能平白無故拿人家東西，季靈希第一反應是拒絕。 卻被許盛廷制止，“先別急著拒絕，我還有一份合約要和你商議。” “什麼合約？” “首先，我願意每月支付你五十萬。” 什麼？ 季靈希睜大眼睛看他，一臉震驚。 隨即她意識到什麼，驀地扯過被子將自己裹緊，只露出一雙警惕的眼睛。 悶悶的聲音隔著棉被傳來：“許先生，我不賣身的。” 看著他正派的眉眼和楚楚的衣冠，季靈希心道，沒想到也只是個人模狗樣的男人。 許盛廷沉默了會兒，突然莫名笑了下，“是嗎？加錢也不可以嗎，只需要每晚……” 伴隨著他越來越露骨的發言，季靈希炸毛一般，“當然不可以！” “只需要每晚給我催眠。”男人徐徐補充完整。 季靈希僵住。 “季醫生想到哪裡去了？”許盛廷看著她羞恥的眼，語氣揶揄，“我只是想聘請你做我的私人醫生而已，畢竟你是這個世界上唯一能讓我睡著的人。” 簽合同的時候，季靈希的臉還因為尷尬發著紅。 但同時她也感到難以置信，許先生居然真的開了月薪五十萬聘請她做私人醫生，而她的工作僅僅是每晚來給他催眠而已，這簡直是天上掉餡餅的事情。 諷刺的是，五十萬，正是那個劉總要買走她的價格。 “謝謝許先生。”季靈希抱著新手機，眼睛亮亮的看著他。 看著她紅撲撲的臉頰，男人眼神一暗，隨即移開目光，“嗯，晚上記得準時到，現在是休息還是離開，都隨意。” 季靈希立刻侷促道：“我很快就走。” “……嗯。” 季靈希出了門，才發現這裡是郊區的一棟私人別墅，私密性很強，和許先生這個人一樣神秘。 神秘到即使作為主治醫師為他治療了三個月，季靈希還是不清楚他的身份，只知道他忙碌且富有，應該是個成功人士。 她用新手機登入了自己的社交賬號，很快彈出一大堆未讀消息。 其中有個紅色的頭像格外醒目，是她的未婚夫許家榮，季家出事後，季靈希一直沒能聯繫上他。 現在他卻發來：靈希，明天下午三點，盛輝酒店1306見。 是昨天的消息。 第3章 一夜給你一萬 距離三點還有一個小時，季靈希看一下地圖，從這裡打車過去剛好來得及。 要去嗎？她心裡突突的跳。 昨天那個死肥豬男的話還歷歷在耳，他說許家早就退婚了。 可季靈希壓根沒收到通知，因此就算許家榮裝死了一個月，她還一直自欺欺人般抱著期待。 季家尚且衰亡，萬一許家也遇到了麻煩呢？或者是擔心受到牽連，等這陣子風頭過了，他就會聯繫她了呢？ 季家和許家在爺爺輩曾是世交，季靈希和許家榮更是自小就定下了娃娃親，兩人青梅竹馬，感情一度是甜蜜的，季靈希在心裡確實曾真心把他當做未來丈夫。 因此還懷揣著天真的期待和信任。 她最終叫了個網約車出發了。 無論退婚一事是真是假，她如今孤立無援，身負鉅債，即使是最後一點希望也要把握！ 網約車上，司機播放著時政廣播，主持人正在播報京市新任市長，是如何新官上任三把火，頒佈了不少利民新政策不說，還抓了一大批貪官汙吏，其中能源部部長季祥和，更是被舉報貪汙公款高達十個億，舉國震驚。 季靈希緊緊咬著唇，眼眶泛紅。 是新市長抓了父親。 說起來，之前她昏迷前，好像是隱隱約約聽到了什麼市長什麼媳婦之類的。 可當時深夜荒涼，周圍只有一輛車上有活人，大概高燒產生的錯覺吧。 如果能見到那位市長就好了，她真的很想瞭解清楚父親貪汙案件的始末，想知道那些所謂確鑿的證據都是從何而來。 她是父親的女兒，最清楚父親的人品，他是絕對做不出貪汙公款這種事情的！ 但以她現在的身份，想見那位市長一面，恐怕難如登天。 車停在了盛輝酒店門口，季靈希下車後，按照門牌號很快來到約定地點。 房門沒有關嚴，應該是許家榮已經到了，在等她。 季靈希沒多想，直接推開了門。 房間裡卻一片漆黑。 難道許家榮還沒到？ 季靈希略有疑惑，一邊往裡走一邊摸索開關。 突然她伸出的手腕被猛地攥住。 有人！ 季靈希猝然睜大眼，驚叫還沒來的及喊出口，就被捂住口鼻，強制拉進了一個光裸的懷抱。 “唔唔唔！”她拼命掙扎，卻完全敵不過對方的力氣，心裡驚懼一片。 “啪！”燈被打開了。 季靈希看清了來人，赫然是許家榮！ 對上她難以置信的眼，許家榮獰笑一聲，砰的把門踢上，緊接著把季靈希按在了牆上。 “靈希，我好想你。”許家榮緊貼著她身體，灼熱的鼻息噴灑在季靈希的脖子上，讓她渾身發毛。 她抗拒的推著他，“許家榮，你幹什麼？” “幹什麼？這不明擺著。”許家榮說著，居然開始撕扯她的衣服。 季靈希愕然，在驚怒之下，照著他裸露的肩膀狠狠咬了下去！ “嘶——”劇烈的痛感，讓許家榮下意識推開她，季靈希趁機逃離他的束縛，閃身抄起床頭櫃的檯燈，警惕的盯著他。 他們如今婚約是否名存實亡都不一定呢，季靈希怎麼可能跟他做！ 許家榮咬牙切齒，“季靈希！你淪落到如今這個地步，還不肯跟我睡？” “當初我圖你季家的助力，讓著你就算了，現如今你家都到這步田地了，你還有什麼可矜持的，扭扭捏捏裝假清高！” 季靈希被羞辱得渾身顫抖，瞪著他，“我只問你，許家是不是退婚了！？” 聞言，許家榮輕蔑一笑，看著季靈希的眼神更是不加掩飾的露骨，“不然呢？你以為你現在還配得上我？季靈希認清現實吧，跟了我，以後一夜給你一萬如何？” 季靈希氣紅了眼，握著檯燈的手都在發抖，“許家榮，我以前怎麼沒發現你這麼噁心？” “呵，我看你是敬酒不吃吃罰酒！”說完，他直接衝上來，季靈希舉起檯燈砸，卻被男人一把擋住，反手將她控制。 力量太懸殊了，季靈希顫抖著咬唇，目露恨光。 這時，許家榮褲兜裡的電話鈴響了。 他不以為然，電話自動掛斷，但緊接著又響起一個特殊的鈴聲。 許家榮動作一頓，咬牙切齒的空出手接通電話：“爺爺。” 對面威嚴的聲音傳出，季靈希離得太近也能聽見。 “家榮啊，你小叔回京市上任也有三個多月了，今晚辦家宴，你現在立刻回來。” 第4章 許家小叔 許老爺子是許家的真正掌權者，威嚴不言而喻，以至於許家榮如今箭在弦上，也不得不偃旗息鼓。 季靈希趁機掙脫開他的束縛，整理好身上的衣服。 見狀，許家榮冷笑：“這次先放過你，季靈希你好好想想吧，做我的女人才是你的最佳選擇，不然有第一個劉總就會有第二個，你以為次次都能逃得掉嗎？” 聽他提起劉總，季靈希難以置信，“你知道？” “當然，你可知你那好叔叔的拜帖遞給過多少人？如今圈子裡誰人不知，你季家大小姐是個五十萬就能買走的便宜貨？” 季靈希瞬間白了臉，眼底的恨意不加掩飾。 但許家榮卻不以為意，失去了季祥和庇護的季靈希就是一隻弱小的兔子，人人都能踩一腳，一隻兔子能有什麼反抗能力呢？ “季靈希，想清楚了隨時聯繫我。” 許家榮晃了晃手機，勢在必得的看了她一眼，轉身離開。 季靈希死死盯著他，在男人轉身之際，突然暴起舉著手中檯燈狠狠砸了下去！ 一聲巨響，紅漿自許家榮頭頂流下，劃過他猝然瞪大的雙眼，落到地面上。 男人抽搐著倒地。 季靈希後知後覺，顫抖著走到他身邊，蹲下身試探鼻息。 還活著。 松了口氣，季靈希站起身，居高臨下看了他兩秒，又不解氣地往那兩腿之間來了一腳。 … 許家。 京市作為H國首都，無數豪門世家紮根於此，其中許家是當之無愧的豪門之首，因此這一年一度的家宴，也舉辦得極其鋪張奢華。 一輛黑色紅旗L9停在了大門口，管家連忙來幫忙拉開車門，男人伸出長腿下車。 “二爺回來了，老爺在屋裡呢，現下除了家榮少爺，其他人也都到了。” 許盛廷聞言，朝他點點頭，徑直往屋裡走。 然而剛靠近主屋，裡面的吵鬧聲就傳了出來。 是他父親，許家家主的聲音，“那混賬東西，婚都退了還非要去招惹人家，還鬧到局子裡去了，簡直丟盡我許家顏面！” “爸，也不能怪我們家榮啊，傳信人說他腦袋都被打破了，分明是受害者！我看是那姓季的，家裡出事想要抓著我們許家不放，糾纏家榮呢！” 許盛廷站在門口沒進去，皺眉問：“怎麼回事？” 老管家尷尬道：“聽說是家榮少爺被他前未婚妻砸破了腦袋，人家姑娘打了120，結果救護車沒到，少爺自己醒了，拉著那姑娘非要報警，現在人被困在局子裡呢。” “他既然是受害者，又為什麼會被扣在警局。” “因為那姑娘跟警察說他試圖侵犯她……” 許盛廷冷笑，隨即推門而入。 與此同時，他大哥許源，估計也是覺得家宴鬧出這事實在丟人，拉著正據理力爭的妻子，勸道：“你別說了，現在當務之急是把家榮接回來。” 他大嫂紅著眼：“警察不肯放人我怎麼接！” “我去接。”冰冷的聲音打斷他們。 “盛廷？”許源尷尬笑道，“你來了，也是，你如今是市長，在警局那邊的面子自然比我們好用。” 許盛廷不置可否，神情冷淡的跟主位上的老爺子打了個招呼。 警局，季靈希坐在和許家榮一欄杆之隔的房間裡，冷眼看著他發瘋。 對此警察也頭疼，他們又何嘗想得罪許家，季靈希雖然控訴許家榮侵犯未遂，但到底拿不出實質的證據，本來教育教育就可以放人。 但許家榮一個嬌生慣養的大少爺，還是第一次被人開瓢，哪裡咽的下這口氣？ 非要強留在這裡死纏爛打，要季靈希坐牢，不然就賠償他五百萬。 五百萬？就憑他頭頂連輕傷都算不上的口子？這不搞笑嘛。 況且罪名雖無法成立，但人家姑娘身上的淤青和破碎的衣服是實打實的，砸他完全是合法自保，他再鬧也沒用啊。 警局外傳來動靜，有人小跑進來，“隊長，許家來人了。” “誰來了？” “好像是許家二爺。” 警長唰得起身，“還不快請進來！” 季靈希聞言抿緊了唇，神態防備。 許家二爺，那不就是許家榮的小叔？肯定是來撈他的。 門被推開，男人高大的身影出現在門口，季靈希警惕地望過去，卻看到了一張意料之外的熟悉的臉。 她人傻了。 怎麼是許盛廷？ ...... 接下來會發生什麼？ 這裡放的章節有限，點選下方按鈕安裝App，繼續閱讀更多精彩章節 （打開應用程式時會自動跳到該書） &5&		Love reading - A		85	https://www.facebook.com/61568188880222/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656799	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 5:13 PM	1735691951	1749247984		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656844	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 7:14 PM	1735691952	1749255253		2174																										fbweb.cdreader.com	Learn more			VIDEO	閱讀下一章👉		https://fbweb.cdreader.com/130853449-fb_contact-ft-p103_2-c2-1128-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=809076924536970&rawadid=120215590358010134			4.7515149567892E+14	Love reading - A	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469168875_2125293594579491_4748012232098321236_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Lz2slecpXFEQ7kNvgEihHuf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYCr2s1Ypg5Qk81ceJDtJLsaYvT0BkgoGYSxMpI5TWdfQQ&oe=677A6229	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		她愛上拯救她的陌生男人，卻得知他竟然就是拿她父親貪污案做墊腳石上位的新任市長！血海深仇，她毅然離去，男人卻瘋了，滿城尋她求原諒！ ===== “季小姐，出來吧，你叔叔已經將你五十萬賣給我了，以後跟著我吃香喝辣，你什麼活也不用幹，只管敞開腿伺候就成。” 轟隆聲響起，暴雨傾盆而下，一道閃電劈開長夜照亮了男人肥肉橫生的猥瑣面孔，他半邊臉擠在門框上變了形，眼神卻不停往門縫裡瞄。 房間內，季靈希渾身發抖的死死抵著門。 “滾……滾啊！！”她崩潰大喊，“我有未婚夫，他不會放過你的！” “未婚夫？你是說那位許家孫少爺？”男人爆發出嘲笑，“怎麼？季小姐不會還不知道自己早已經被退婚了吧？嗤，被玩膩的破鞋，還裝什麼矜持！” 說完，他肥豬一般的龐大身軀猛然往脆弱的門上一撞！ “啊！”季靈希被突然劇震的門板嚇到後退，雙手顫抖，“退婚？不可能，不可能……” 可真的不可能嗎？ 自從一個月前，季靈希的父親被誣陷貪汙腐敗入獄，母親車禍後昏迷不醒，整個季氏家族就走向了衰亡。 鉅額家產被全部凍結清算，一夜之間，她從千金小姐變成了負債上億的乞丐。 明天她所在的這套房子也要被查封，她是來取最後的行李的，卻正好被那二叔拿捏了行蹤，居然要乘機將她賣給這將近五十歲的死肥豬男！ 眾叛親離，她徹底一無所有了！ 門外，那死肥豬男的不耐煩的聲音再次傳來：“老子可沒耐心陪你玩小兔子乖乖的開門遊戲，去！讓人把鑰匙送上來！” 他有鑰匙！ 季靈希猝然白了臉，一旦門被破開，結局可想而知。 到時候就算是被侵犯致死都沒人會來替她收屍！ 逃！ 季靈希腦海裡只剩下這一個念頭。 身後窗戶大開，狂風裹挾著暴雨入侵，溼透的窗簾翻飛，天際電蛇狂舞，雷聲轟鳴。 她含著淚一咬牙，猛地衝到了窗前。 二樓而已，摔不死！ 縱身一躍—— 在大腦都壓根沒反應過來之前，人已經滾落在了地面草坪上，渾身溼透沾著汙泥。 “嘶！”說不出到底是哪疼，總之通身都像是要摔散架一般。 “人呢？”“翻窗跑了！”聲音從二樓傳來。 季靈希立刻胡亂爬起來，逃命時腎上激素的飆升讓她爆發出無與倫比的潛力。 逃，快逃，快逃啊！ 她趁著夜色和暴雨的掩蓋，就這樣生生衝出了灌木叢生的後院，往路口奔跑而去。 與此同時，馬路盡頭一輛黑色紅旗飛馳而來，車燈射穿雨幕，照在了突然出現，試圖橫穿馬路的黑影身上！ “我去！”司機沒忍住爆了一聲粗口，猛踩剎車的同時狂打方向盤。 後座衣衫考究的斯文男人猝不及防被巨大的慣性所挾持，一腦袋撞在了前座靠背上。 “砰”一聲悶響。 司機頓時魂飛魄散，“市市……市長先生！你沒事吧！？” 男人黑著臉，“你應該問問被你撞的人有沒有事。”說完，他推門下車查看。 黑色傘面被暴雨沖刷，男人腳踩一雙高定皮鞋，踏著汙水來到昏倒在地的女人面前。 司機哭喪著臉，“我明明踩剎車了，好像沒撞到她啊？” “不是你撞的。”男人一眼看出端倪，冷笑了聲，“碰瓷？膽子倒大。” 說完，他冷漠收回目光，轉身就走。 “等等……”剛剛還“昏迷”不醒的女人突然出聲，伸出一隻髒兮兮的手，飛快地拽住了男人剪裁利落乾淨的褲腳，抬起臉虛弱道：“別走，他們在追我，求你救、救我……” 這個聲音…… 男人腳步一頓，回過頭來，漆黑的眸子居高臨下看清了車燈下那張沾著泥土的臉，瞳孔驟縮。 “這、這不是孫少爺的未婚妻嗎！是市長先生您的侄媳婦啊！”司機率先驚叫。 “呵，”男人語調嘲諷，“我侄媳婦？” 他們在說什、什麼……什麼市長媳婦的…… 季靈希眼前男人的臉早就化作重影，耳邊一片嗡嗡，逃到這裡已經耗盡了她所有的力氣，到最後也只能全憑本能的死死抓著那塊一絲一線都昂貴至極的“救命稻草”不放。 男人似乎蹲下了身，但季靈希已經徹底支撐不住，昏厥了過去。 第2章 私人醫生 再醒來是在陌生的房間，窗外是炫目的白晝。 床邊穿著白大褂的醫生正在收拾工具，見季靈希睜眼，立刻高呼：“先生，人醒了！” 男人很快推門進來，對上了床上女人一雙迷茫受驚的小鹿般的眼，眼底是深刻的防備和恐懼。 他走近床邊，“醒了？燒退了嗎？” 冰冰冷冷，有點熟悉的聲音，更熟悉的是那張面無表情的臉。 “……許先生？”季靈希認出人，瞪大眼睛，“怎麼是你？” 這個男人她認識，是她的患者。 季靈希大學一畢業就入職了京市第一人民醫院心內科，許盛廷是她接手的第一個病人。 但神奇的是，許盛廷患有的並非是任何心臟類疾病，而是應該歸屬為精神科的睡眠障礙。 他患有嚴重失眠症，入睡困難，曾有過長達一個月未合過眼，最後暈厥在辦公室的記錄，他的上一位心理醫生對他束手無措，可機緣巧合下，卻發現許盛廷對季靈希的聲音有特殊反應，能依靠她的聲音睡著！ 於是他便被轉到了季靈希名下，成為了一個“特殊”病人。 這段時間的變故讓季靈希分身乏術，醫院那邊不得已請了長假，倒是許久沒有為許盛廷催眠了。 季靈希看著男人那張過分英俊的臉，高挺的鼻樑在臉頰落下陰影，嘴唇偏薄顯得不近人情，一雙冷靜威嚴的鷹眸底下，卻掛著兩個煞風景的黑眼圈。 眼睛裡也有不少紅血絲，顯然是太久沒能休息，精神高度緊繃造成的。 “謝謝許先生救了我。”季靈希坐起身，小臉脆弱蒼白。 回想起暈倒前的一切，她沒想到豁出性命的一次“碰瓷”，居然正好碰到了熟人身上！ 不幸中的萬幸。 “不客氣，我也很慶幸沒有背上一條人命。”許盛廷確認她已經退燒後，便讓醫生離開了，自己則順勢坐在了醫生的位置上。 “抱歉……”季靈希羞愧垂眼，“我不得不那樣。” 她尷尬的雙手絞著衣角，卻突然意識到自己身上的衣服已經換了。 也是，渾身溼乎乎髒兮兮的，怎麼上床？ 可是誰給她換的？不會是…… “昨晚是讓保姆給你洗的澡，換了衣服。”許盛廷見她呆呆地盯著衣服出神，臉還越來越紅，就猜到了她在想什麼。 “謝、謝謝。”被看穿心裡所想，季靈希更羞恥了。 好在許盛廷沒再繼續計較，而是突然提起另一件事：“你是不打算回醫院了嗎？” “短時間內我可能確實回不去了。”她實話實說。 醫院的工作需要花費大量時間和全部精力，但工資對於現在的她來說卻是杯水車薪，再加上父親的冤屈還未洗刷，季靈希不能把時間全部交代在那裡。 許盛廷的表情更冷了，“那你的病人怎麼辦？半途而廢，季醫生未免太不負責。” 什麼病人，他分明就是在說他自己！ 季靈希低下頭，“如果許先生需要催眠的話，可以隨時聯繫我，能來我一定來。” 也算是報答他這次的救命之恩了。 “是嗎？可你的電話打不通，消息也一直未讀。” 季靈希一愣，想起了什麼，尷尬道：“抱歉，我的手機不久前壞了……”被那群追債的砸了，還沒來得及買新的。 許盛廷皺了皺眉，顯然也想到了現下季靈希的狼狽，他沒有多問，只是叫了人進來吩咐了什麼，很快那人出去又進來，手裡多了一部手機。 許盛廷把手機交給季靈希，“以後用這個聯繫。” “啊？”怎麼能平白無故拿人家東西，季靈希第一反應是拒絕。 卻被許盛廷制止，“先別急著拒絕，我還有一份合約要和你商議。” “什麼合約？” “首先，我願意每月支付你五十萬。” 什麼？ 季靈希睜大眼睛看他，一臉震驚。 隨即她意識到什麼，驀地扯過被子將自己裹緊，只露出一雙警惕的眼睛。 悶悶的聲音隔著棉被傳來：“許先生，我不賣身的。” 看著他正派的眉眼和楚楚的衣冠，季靈希心道，沒想到也只是個人模狗樣的男人。 許盛廷沉默了會兒，突然莫名笑了下，“是嗎？加錢也不可以嗎，只需要每晚……” 伴隨著他越來越露骨的發言，季靈希炸毛一般，“當然不可以！” “只需要每晚給我催眠。”男人徐徐補充完整。 季靈希僵住。 “季醫生想到哪裡去了？”許盛廷看著她羞恥的眼，語氣揶揄，“我只是想聘請你做我的私人醫生而已，畢竟你是這個世界上唯一能讓我睡著的人。” 簽合同的時候，季靈希的臉還因為尷尬發著紅。 但同時她也感到難以置信，許先生居然真的開了月薪五十萬聘請她做私人醫生，而她的工作僅僅是每晚來給他催眠而已，這簡直是天上掉餡餅的事情。 諷刺的是，五十萬，正是那個劉總要買走她的價格。 “謝謝許先生。”季靈希抱著新手機，眼睛亮亮的看著他。 看著她紅撲撲的臉頰，男人眼神一暗，隨即移開目光，“嗯，晚上記得準時到，現在是休息還是離開，都隨意。” 季靈希立刻侷促道：“我很快就走。” “……嗯。” 季靈希出了門，才發現這裡是郊區的一棟私人別墅，私密性很強，和許先生這個人一樣神秘。 神秘到即使作為主治醫師為他治療了三個月，季靈希還是不清楚他的身份，只知道他忙碌且富有，應該是個成功人士。 她用新手機登入了自己的社交賬號，很快彈出一大堆未讀消息。 其中有個紅色的頭像格外醒目，是她的未婚夫許家榮，季家出事後，季靈希一直沒能聯繫上他。 現在他卻發來：靈希，明天下午三點，盛輝酒店1306見。 是昨天的消息。 第3章 一夜給你一萬 距離三點還有一個小時，季靈希看一下地圖，從這裡打車過去剛好來得及。 要去嗎？她心裡突突的跳。 昨天那個死肥豬男的話還歷歷在耳，他說許家早就退婚了。 可季靈希壓根沒收到通知，因此就算許家榮裝死了一個月，她還一直自欺欺人般抱著期待。 季家尚且衰亡，萬一許家也遇到了麻煩呢？或者是擔心受到牽連，等這陣子風頭過了，他就會聯繫她了呢？ 季家和許家在爺爺輩曾是世交，季靈希和許家榮更是自小就定下了娃娃親，兩人青梅竹馬，感情一度是甜蜜的，季靈希在心裡確實曾真心把他當做未來丈夫。 因此還懷揣著天真的期待和信任。 她最終叫了個網約車出發了。 無論退婚一事是真是假，她如今孤立無援，身負鉅債，即使是最後一點希望也要把握！ 網約車上，司機播放著時政廣播，主持人正在播報京市新任市長，是如何新官上任三把火，頒佈了不少利民新政策不說，還抓了一大批貪官汙吏，其中能源部部長季祥和，更是被舉報貪汙公款高達十個億，舉國震驚。 季靈希緊緊咬著唇，眼眶泛紅。 是新市長抓了父親。 說起來，之前她昏迷前，好像是隱隱約約聽到了什麼市長什麼媳婦之類的。 可當時深夜荒涼，周圍只有一輛車上有活人，大概高燒產生的錯覺吧。 如果能見到那位市長就好了，她真的很想瞭解清楚父親貪汙案件的始末，想知道那些所謂確鑿的證據都是從何而來。 她是父親的女兒，最清楚父親的人品，他是絕對做不出貪汙公款這種事情的！ 但以她現在的身份，想見那位市長一面，恐怕難如登天。 車停在了盛輝酒店門口，季靈希下車後，按照門牌號很快來到約定地點。 房門沒有關嚴，應該是許家榮已經到了，在等她。 季靈希沒多想，直接推開了門。 房間裡卻一片漆黑。 難道許家榮還沒到？ 季靈希略有疑惑，一邊往裡走一邊摸索開關。 突然她伸出的手腕被猛地攥住。 有人！ 季靈希猝然睜大眼，驚叫還沒來的及喊出口，就被捂住口鼻，強制拉進了一個光裸的懷抱。 “唔唔唔！”她拼命掙扎，卻完全敵不過對方的力氣，心裡驚懼一片。 “啪！”燈被打開了。 季靈希看清了來人，赫然是許家榮！ 對上她難以置信的眼，許家榮獰笑一聲，砰的把門踢上，緊接著把季靈希按在了牆上。 “靈希，我好想你。”許家榮緊貼著她身體，灼熱的鼻息噴灑在季靈希的脖子上，讓她渾身發毛。 她抗拒的推著他，“許家榮，你幹什麼？” “幹什麼？這不明擺著。”許家榮說著，居然開始撕扯她的衣服。 季靈希愕然，在驚怒之下，照著他裸露的肩膀狠狠咬了下去！ “嘶——”劇烈的痛感，讓許家榮下意識推開她，季靈希趁機逃離他的束縛，閃身抄起床頭櫃的檯燈，警惕的盯著他。 他們如今婚約是否名存實亡都不一定呢，季靈希怎麼可能跟他做！ 許家榮咬牙切齒，“季靈希！你淪落到如今這個地步，還不肯跟我睡？” “當初我圖你季家的助力，讓著你就算了，現如今你家都到這步田地了，你還有什麼可矜持的，扭扭捏捏裝假清高！” 季靈希被羞辱得渾身顫抖，瞪著他，“我只問你，許家是不是退婚了！？” 聞言，許家榮輕蔑一笑，看著季靈希的眼神更是不加掩飾的露骨，“不然呢？你以為你現在還配得上我？季靈希認清現實吧，跟了我，以後一夜給你一萬如何？” 季靈希氣紅了眼，握著檯燈的手都在發抖，“許家榮，我以前怎麼沒發現你這麼噁心？” “呵，我看你是敬酒不吃吃罰酒！”說完，他直接衝上來，季靈希舉起檯燈砸，卻被男人一把擋住，反手將她控制。 力量太懸殊了，季靈希顫抖著咬唇，目露恨光。 這時，許家榮褲兜裡的電話鈴響了。 他不以為然，電話自動掛斷，但緊接著又響起一個特殊的鈴聲。 許家榮動作一頓，咬牙切齒的空出手接通電話：“爺爺。” 對面威嚴的聲音傳出，季靈希離得太近也能聽見。 “家榮啊，你小叔回京市上任也有三個多月了，今晚辦家宴，你現在立刻回來。” 第4章 許家小叔 許老爺子是許家的真正掌權者，威嚴不言而喻，以至於許家榮如今箭在弦上，也不得不偃旗息鼓。 季靈希趁機掙脫開他的束縛，整理好身上的衣服。 見狀，許家榮冷笑：“這次先放過你，季靈希你好好想想吧，做我的女人才是你的最佳選擇，不然有第一個劉總就會有第二個，你以為次次都能逃得掉嗎？” 聽他提起劉總，季靈希難以置信，“你知道？” “當然，你可知你那好叔叔的拜帖遞給過多少人？如今圈子裡誰人不知，你季家大小姐是個五十萬就能買走的便宜貨？” 季靈希瞬間白了臉，眼底的恨意不加掩飾。 但許家榮卻不以為意，失去了季祥和庇護的季靈希就是一隻弱小的兔子，人人都能踩一腳，一隻兔子能有什麼反抗能力呢？ “季靈希，想清楚了隨時聯繫我。” 許家榮晃了晃手機，勢在必得的看了她一眼，轉身離開。 季靈希死死盯著他，在男人轉身之際，突然暴起舉著手中檯燈狠狠砸了下去！ 一聲巨響，紅漿自許家榮頭頂流下，劃過他猝然瞪大的雙眼，落到地面上。 男人抽搐著倒地。 季靈希後知後覺，顫抖著走到他身邊，蹲下身試探鼻息。 還活著。 松了口氣，季靈希站起身，居高臨下看了他兩秒，又不解氣地往那兩腿之間來了一腳。 … 許家。 京市作為H國首都，無數豪門世家紮根於此，其中許家是當之無愧的豪門之首，因此這一年一度的家宴，也舉辦得極其鋪張奢華。 一輛黑色紅旗L9停在了大門口，管家連忙來幫忙拉開車門，男人伸出長腿下車。 “二爺回來了，老爺在屋裡呢，現下除了家榮少爺，其他人也都到了。” 許盛廷聞言，朝他點點頭，徑直往屋裡走。 然而剛靠近主屋，裡面的吵鬧聲就傳了出來。 是他父親，許家家主的聲音，“那混賬東西，婚都退了還非要去招惹人家，還鬧到局子裡去了，簡直丟盡我許家顏面！” “爸，也不能怪我們家榮啊，傳信人說他腦袋都被打破了，分明是受害者！我看是那姓季的，家裡出事想要抓著我們許家不放，糾纏家榮呢！” 許盛廷站在門口沒進去，皺眉問：“怎麼回事？” 老管家尷尬道：“聽說是家榮少爺被他前未婚妻砸破了腦袋，人家姑娘打了120，結果救護車沒到，少爺自己醒了，拉著那姑娘非要報警，現在人被困在局子裡呢。” “他既然是受害者，又為什麼會被扣在警局。” “因為那姑娘跟警察說他試圖侵犯她……” 許盛廷冷笑，隨即推門而入。 與此同時，他大哥許源，估計也是覺得家宴鬧出這事實在丟人，拉著正據理力爭的妻子，勸道：“你別說了，現在當務之急是把家榮接回來。” 他大嫂紅著眼：“警察不肯放人我怎麼接！” “我去接。”冰冷的聲音打斷他們。 “盛廷？”許源尷尬笑道，“你來了，也是，你如今是市長，在警局那邊的面子自然比我們好用。” 許盛廷不置可否，神情冷淡的跟主位上的老爺子打了個招呼。 警局，季靈希坐在和許家榮一欄杆之隔的房間裡，冷眼看著他發瘋。 對此警察也頭疼，他們又何嘗想得罪許家，季靈希雖然控訴許家榮侵犯未遂，但到底拿不出實質的證據，本來教育教育就可以放人。 但許家榮一個嬌生慣養的大少爺，還是第一次被人開瓢，哪裡咽的下這口氣？ 非要強留在這裡死纏爛打，要季靈希坐牢，不然就賠償他五百萬。 五百萬？就憑他頭頂連輕傷都算不上的口子？這不搞笑嘛。 況且罪名雖無法成立，但人家姑娘身上的淤青和破碎的衣服是實打實的，砸他完全是合法自保，他再鬧也沒用啊。 警局外傳來動靜，有人小跑進來，“隊長，許家來人了。” “誰來了？” “好像是許家二爺。” 警長唰得起身，“還不快請進來！” 季靈希聞言抿緊了唇，神態防備。 許家二爺，那不就是許家榮的小叔？肯定是來撈他的。 門被推開，男人高大的身影出現在門口，季靈希警惕地望過去，卻看到了一張意料之外的熟悉的臉。 她人傻了。 怎麼是許盛廷？ ...... 接下來會發生什麼？ 這裡放的章節有限，點選下方按鈕安裝App，繼續閱讀更多精彩章節 （打開應用程式時會自動跳到該書） &5&		Love reading - A		85	https://www.facebook.com/61568188880222/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656411	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 6:08 PM	1735691943	1749251281		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=G6a7vY4vM-AQ7kNvgHlTO55&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYDW0R4r_9abe9DrLQUjc-7EP-6clQckT7vrAmenriWjaQ&oe=677A74AC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656511	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 6:13 PM	1735691945	1749165215		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656690	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 8:24 PM	1735691949	1749259496		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656923	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 8:43 PM	1735691955	1749260640		2174																										superthrift.com	No Button			CAROUSEL			http://www.superthrift.com/			4.0002957685789E+14	GoodLife SuperThrift	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471715446_1808457123257386_7687321858465880644_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=n2J2MAphHt0Q7kNvgFQkzsQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYDj6_Cpoait1WQwr0NJveBJyau3Fs0mumpNng7vMbHbOg&oe=677A4C41	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0				GoodLife SuperThrift		6482	https://www.facebook.com/GoodLifeSuperThriftLakeWorth/	0		NO_BUTTON								View Edit Delete
2656877	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 7:53 PM	1735691952	1749257617		2174																										fbweb.cdreader.com	Learn more			VIDEO	閱讀下一章👉		https://fbweb.cdreader.com/130853449-fb_contact-ft-p103_2-c2-1128-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=809076924536970&rawadid=120215590394570134			4.7515149567892E+14	Love reading - A	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469235515_9244096492275485_7091779337132372315_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Hl_a2EP5sp0Q7kNvgHa7FV1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYA9M8YWLxIu6gzJj05TiQbEDw7LEji81aIrx16rXKskBw&oe=677A6377	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		她愛上拯救她的陌生男人，卻得知他竟然就是拿她父親貪污案做墊腳石上位的新任市長！血海深仇，她毅然離去，男人卻瘋了，滿城尋她求原諒！ ===== “季小姐，出來吧，你叔叔已經將你五十萬賣給我了，以後跟著我吃香喝辣，你什麼活也不用幹，只管敞開腿伺候就成。” 轟隆聲響起，暴雨傾盆而下，一道閃電劈開長夜照亮了男人肥肉橫生的猥瑣面孔，他半邊臉擠在門框上變了形，眼神卻不停往門縫裡瞄。 房間內，季靈希渾身發抖的死死抵著門。 “滾……滾啊！！”她崩潰大喊，“我有未婚夫，他不會放過你的！” “未婚夫？你是說那位許家孫少爺？”男人爆發出嘲笑，“怎麼？季小姐不會還不知道自己早已經被退婚了吧？嗤，被玩膩的破鞋，還裝什麼矜持！” 說完，他肥豬一般的龐大身軀猛然往脆弱的門上一撞！ “啊！”季靈希被突然劇震的門板嚇到後退，雙手顫抖，“退婚？不可能，不可能……” 可真的不可能嗎？ 自從一個月前，季靈希的父親被誣陷貪汙腐敗入獄，母親車禍後昏迷不醒，整個季氏家族就走向了衰亡。 鉅額家產被全部凍結清算，一夜之間，她從千金小姐變成了負債上億的乞丐。 明天她所在的這套房子也要被查封，她是來取最後的行李的，卻正好被那二叔拿捏了行蹤，居然要乘機將她賣給這將近五十歲的死肥豬男！ 眾叛親離，她徹底一無所有了！ 門外，那死肥豬男的不耐煩的聲音再次傳來：“老子可沒耐心陪你玩小兔子乖乖的開門遊戲，去！讓人把鑰匙送上來！” 他有鑰匙！ 季靈希猝然白了臉，一旦門被破開，結局可想而知。 到時候就算是被侵犯致死都沒人會來替她收屍！ 逃！ 季靈希腦海裡只剩下這一個念頭。 身後窗戶大開，狂風裹挾著暴雨入侵，溼透的窗簾翻飛，天際電蛇狂舞，雷聲轟鳴。 她含著淚一咬牙，猛地衝到了窗前。 二樓而已，摔不死！ 縱身一躍—— 在大腦都壓根沒反應過來之前，人已經滾落在了地面草坪上，渾身溼透沾著汙泥。 “嘶！”說不出到底是哪疼，總之通身都像是要摔散架一般。 “人呢？”“翻窗跑了！”聲音從二樓傳來。 季靈希立刻胡亂爬起來，逃命時腎上激素的飆升讓她爆發出無與倫比的潛力。 逃，快逃，快逃啊！ 她趁著夜色和暴雨的掩蓋，就這樣生生衝出了灌木叢生的後院，往路口奔跑而去。 與此同時，馬路盡頭一輛黑色紅旗飛馳而來，車燈射穿雨幕，照在了突然出現，試圖橫穿馬路的黑影身上！ “我去！”司機沒忍住爆了一聲粗口，猛踩剎車的同時狂打方向盤。 後座衣衫考究的斯文男人猝不及防被巨大的慣性所挾持，一腦袋撞在了前座靠背上。 “砰”一聲悶響。 司機頓時魂飛魄散，“市市……市長先生！你沒事吧！？” 男人黑著臉，“你應該問問被你撞的人有沒有事。”說完，他推門下車查看。 黑色傘面被暴雨沖刷，男人腳踩一雙高定皮鞋，踏著汙水來到昏倒在地的女人面前。 司機哭喪著臉，“我明明踩剎車了，好像沒撞到她啊？” “不是你撞的。”男人一眼看出端倪，冷笑了聲，“碰瓷？膽子倒大。” 說完，他冷漠收回目光，轉身就走。 “等等……”剛剛還“昏迷”不醒的女人突然出聲，伸出一隻髒兮兮的手，飛快地拽住了男人剪裁利落乾淨的褲腳，抬起臉虛弱道：“別走，他們在追我，求你救、救我……” 這個聲音…… 男人腳步一頓，回過頭來，漆黑的眸子居高臨下看清了車燈下那張沾著泥土的臉，瞳孔驟縮。 “這、這不是孫少爺的未婚妻嗎！是市長先生您的侄媳婦啊！”司機率先驚叫。 “呵，”男人語調嘲諷，“我侄媳婦？” 他們在說什、什麼……什麼市長媳婦的…… 季靈希眼前男人的臉早就化作重影，耳邊一片嗡嗡，逃到這裡已經耗盡了她所有的力氣，到最後也只能全憑本能的死死抓著那塊一絲一線都昂貴至極的“救命稻草”不放。 男人似乎蹲下了身，但季靈希已經徹底支撐不住，昏厥了過去。 第2章 私人醫生 再醒來是在陌生的房間，窗外是炫目的白晝。 床邊穿著白大褂的醫生正在收拾工具，見季靈希睜眼，立刻高呼：“先生，人醒了！” 男人很快推門進來，對上了床上女人一雙迷茫受驚的小鹿般的眼，眼底是深刻的防備和恐懼。 他走近床邊，“醒了？燒退了嗎？” 冰冰冷冷，有點熟悉的聲音，更熟悉的是那張面無表情的臉。 “……許先生？”季靈希認出人，瞪大眼睛，“怎麼是你？” 這個男人她認識，是她的患者。 季靈希大學一畢業就入職了京市第一人民醫院心內科，許盛廷是她接手的第一個病人。 但神奇的是，許盛廷患有的並非是任何心臟類疾病，而是應該歸屬為精神科的睡眠障礙。 他患有嚴重失眠症，入睡困難，曾有過長達一個月未合過眼，最後暈厥在辦公室的記錄，他的上一位心理醫生對他束手無措，可機緣巧合下，卻發現許盛廷對季靈希的聲音有特殊反應，能依靠她的聲音睡著！ 於是他便被轉到了季靈希名下，成為了一個“特殊”病人。 這段時間的變故讓季靈希分身乏術，醫院那邊不得已請了長假，倒是許久沒有為許盛廷催眠了。 季靈希看著男人那張過分英俊的臉，高挺的鼻樑在臉頰落下陰影，嘴唇偏薄顯得不近人情，一雙冷靜威嚴的鷹眸底下，卻掛著兩個煞風景的黑眼圈。 眼睛裡也有不少紅血絲，顯然是太久沒能休息，精神高度緊繃造成的。 “謝謝許先生救了我。”季靈希坐起身，小臉脆弱蒼白。 回想起暈倒前的一切，她沒想到豁出性命的一次“碰瓷”，居然正好碰到了熟人身上！ 不幸中的萬幸。 “不客氣，我也很慶幸沒有背上一條人命。”許盛廷確認她已經退燒後，便讓醫生離開了，自己則順勢坐在了醫生的位置上。 “抱歉……”季靈希羞愧垂眼，“我不得不那樣。” 她尷尬的雙手絞著衣角，卻突然意識到自己身上的衣服已經換了。 也是，渾身溼乎乎髒兮兮的，怎麼上床？ 可是誰給她換的？不會是…… “昨晚是讓保姆給你洗的澡，換了衣服。”許盛廷見她呆呆地盯著衣服出神，臉還越來越紅，就猜到了她在想什麼。 “謝、謝謝。”被看穿心裡所想，季靈希更羞恥了。 好在許盛廷沒再繼續計較，而是突然提起另一件事：“你是不打算回醫院了嗎？” “短時間內我可能確實回不去了。”她實話實說。 醫院的工作需要花費大量時間和全部精力，但工資對於現在的她來說卻是杯水車薪，再加上父親的冤屈還未洗刷，季靈希不能把時間全部交代在那裡。 許盛廷的表情更冷了，“那你的病人怎麼辦？半途而廢，季醫生未免太不負責。” 什麼病人，他分明就是在說他自己！ 季靈希低下頭，“如果許先生需要催眠的話，可以隨時聯繫我，能來我一定來。” 也算是報答他這次的救命之恩了。 “是嗎？可你的電話打不通，消息也一直未讀。” 季靈希一愣，想起了什麼，尷尬道：“抱歉，我的手機不久前壞了……”被那群追債的砸了，還沒來得及買新的。 許盛廷皺了皺眉，顯然也想到了現下季靈希的狼狽，他沒有多問，只是叫了人進來吩咐了什麼，很快那人出去又進來，手裡多了一部手機。 許盛廷把手機交給季靈希，“以後用這個聯繫。” “啊？”怎麼能平白無故拿人家東西，季靈希第一反應是拒絕。 卻被許盛廷制止，“先別急著拒絕，我還有一份合約要和你商議。” “什麼合約？” “首先，我願意每月支付你五十萬。” 什麼？ 季靈希睜大眼睛看他，一臉震驚。 隨即她意識到什麼，驀地扯過被子將自己裹緊，只露出一雙警惕的眼睛。 悶悶的聲音隔著棉被傳來：“許先生，我不賣身的。” 看著他正派的眉眼和楚楚的衣冠，季靈希心道，沒想到也只是個人模狗樣的男人。 許盛廷沉默了會兒，突然莫名笑了下，“是嗎？加錢也不可以嗎，只需要每晚……” 伴隨著他越來越露骨的發言，季靈希炸毛一般，“當然不可以！” “只需要每晚給我催眠。”男人徐徐補充完整。 季靈希僵住。 “季醫生想到哪裡去了？”許盛廷看著她羞恥的眼，語氣揶揄，“我只是想聘請你做我的私人醫生而已，畢竟你是這個世界上唯一能讓我睡著的人。” 簽合同的時候，季靈希的臉還因為尷尬發著紅。 但同時她也感到難以置信，許先生居然真的開了月薪五十萬聘請她做私人醫生，而她的工作僅僅是每晚來給他催眠而已，這簡直是天上掉餡餅的事情。 諷刺的是，五十萬，正是那個劉總要買走她的價格。 “謝謝許先生。”季靈希抱著新手機，眼睛亮亮的看著他。 看著她紅撲撲的臉頰，男人眼神一暗，隨即移開目光，“嗯，晚上記得準時到，現在是休息還是離開，都隨意。” 季靈希立刻侷促道：“我很快就走。” “……嗯。” 季靈希出了門，才發現這裡是郊區的一棟私人別墅，私密性很強，和許先生這個人一樣神秘。 神秘到即使作為主治醫師為他治療了三個月，季靈希還是不清楚他的身份，只知道他忙碌且富有，應該是個成功人士。 她用新手機登入了自己的社交賬號，很快彈出一大堆未讀消息。 其中有個紅色的頭像格外醒目，是她的未婚夫許家榮，季家出事後，季靈希一直沒能聯繫上他。 現在他卻發來：靈希，明天下午三點，盛輝酒店1306見。 是昨天的消息。 第3章 一夜給你一萬 距離三點還有一個小時，季靈希看一下地圖，從這裡打車過去剛好來得及。 要去嗎？她心裡突突的跳。 昨天那個死肥豬男的話還歷歷在耳，他說許家早就退婚了。 可季靈希壓根沒收到通知，因此就算許家榮裝死了一個月，她還一直自欺欺人般抱著期待。 季家尚且衰亡，萬一許家也遇到了麻煩呢？或者是擔心受到牽連，等這陣子風頭過了，他就會聯繫她了呢？ 季家和許家在爺爺輩曾是世交，季靈希和許家榮更是自小就定下了娃娃親，兩人青梅竹馬，感情一度是甜蜜的，季靈希在心裡確實曾真心把他當做未來丈夫。 因此還懷揣著天真的期待和信任。 她最終叫了個網約車出發了。 無論退婚一事是真是假，她如今孤立無援，身負鉅債，即使是最後一點希望也要把握！ 網約車上，司機播放著時政廣播，主持人正在播報京市新任市長，是如何新官上任三把火，頒佈了不少利民新政策不說，還抓了一大批貪官汙吏，其中能源部部長季祥和，更是被舉報貪汙公款高達十個億，舉國震驚。 季靈希緊緊咬著唇，眼眶泛紅。 是新市長抓了父親。 說起來，之前她昏迷前，好像是隱隱約約聽到了什麼市長什麼媳婦之類的。 可當時深夜荒涼，周圍只有一輛車上有活人，大概高燒產生的錯覺吧。 如果能見到那位市長就好了，她真的很想瞭解清楚父親貪汙案件的始末，想知道那些所謂確鑿的證據都是從何而來。 她是父親的女兒，最清楚父親的人品，他是絕對做不出貪汙公款這種事情的！ 但以她現在的身份，想見那位市長一面，恐怕難如登天。 車停在了盛輝酒店門口，季靈希下車後，按照門牌號很快來到約定地點。 房門沒有關嚴，應該是許家榮已經到了，在等她。 季靈希沒多想，直接推開了門。 房間裡卻一片漆黑。 難道許家榮還沒到？ 季靈希略有疑惑，一邊往裡走一邊摸索開關。 突然她伸出的手腕被猛地攥住。 有人！ 季靈希猝然睜大眼，驚叫還沒來的及喊出口，就被捂住口鼻，強制拉進了一個光裸的懷抱。 “唔唔唔！”她拼命掙扎，卻完全敵不過對方的力氣，心裡驚懼一片。 “啪！”燈被打開了。 季靈希看清了來人，赫然是許家榮！ 對上她難以置信的眼，許家榮獰笑一聲，砰的把門踢上，緊接著把季靈希按在了牆上。 “靈希，我好想你。”許家榮緊貼著她身體，灼熱的鼻息噴灑在季靈希的脖子上，讓她渾身發毛。 她抗拒的推著他，“許家榮，你幹什麼？” “幹什麼？這不明擺著。”許家榮說著，居然開始撕扯她的衣服。 季靈希愕然，在驚怒之下，照著他裸露的肩膀狠狠咬了下去！ “嘶——”劇烈的痛感，讓許家榮下意識推開她，季靈希趁機逃離他的束縛，閃身抄起床頭櫃的檯燈，警惕的盯著他。 他們如今婚約是否名存實亡都不一定呢，季靈希怎麼可能跟他做！ 許家榮咬牙切齒，“季靈希！你淪落到如今這個地步，還不肯跟我睡？” “當初我圖你季家的助力，讓著你就算了，現如今你家都到這步田地了，你還有什麼可矜持的，扭扭捏捏裝假清高！” 季靈希被羞辱得渾身顫抖，瞪著他，“我只問你，許家是不是退婚了！？” 聞言，許家榮輕蔑一笑，看著季靈希的眼神更是不加掩飾的露骨，“不然呢？你以為你現在還配得上我？季靈希認清現實吧，跟了我，以後一夜給你一萬如何？” 季靈希氣紅了眼，握著檯燈的手都在發抖，“許家榮，我以前怎麼沒發現你這麼噁心？” “呵，我看你是敬酒不吃吃罰酒！”說完，他直接衝上來，季靈希舉起檯燈砸，卻被男人一把擋住，反手將她控制。 力量太懸殊了，季靈希顫抖著咬唇，目露恨光。 這時，許家榮褲兜裡的電話鈴響了。 他不以為然，電話自動掛斷，但緊接著又響起一個特殊的鈴聲。 許家榮動作一頓，咬牙切齒的空出手接通電話：“爺爺。” 對面威嚴的聲音傳出，季靈希離得太近也能聽見。 “家榮啊，你小叔回京市上任也有三個多月了，今晚辦家宴，你現在立刻回來。” 第4章 許家小叔 許老爺子是許家的真正掌權者，威嚴不言而喻，以至於許家榮如今箭在弦上，也不得不偃旗息鼓。 季靈希趁機掙脫開他的束縛，整理好身上的衣服。 見狀，許家榮冷笑：“這次先放過你，季靈希你好好想想吧，做我的女人才是你的最佳選擇，不然有第一個劉總就會有第二個，你以為次次都能逃得掉嗎？” 聽他提起劉總，季靈希難以置信，“你知道？” “當然，你可知你那好叔叔的拜帖遞給過多少人？如今圈子裡誰人不知，你季家大小姐是個五十萬就能買走的便宜貨？” 季靈希瞬間白了臉，眼底的恨意不加掩飾。 但許家榮卻不以為意，失去了季祥和庇護的季靈希就是一隻弱小的兔子，人人都能踩一腳，一隻兔子能有什麼反抗能力呢？ “季靈希，想清楚了隨時聯繫我。” 許家榮晃了晃手機，勢在必得的看了她一眼，轉身離開。 季靈希死死盯著他，在男人轉身之際，突然暴起舉著手中檯燈狠狠砸了下去！ 一聲巨響，紅漿自許家榮頭頂流下，劃過他猝然瞪大的雙眼，落到地面上。 男人抽搐著倒地。 季靈希後知後覺，顫抖著走到他身邊，蹲下身試探鼻息。 還活著。 松了口氣，季靈希站起身，居高臨下看了他兩秒，又不解氣地往那兩腿之間來了一腳。 … 許家。 京市作為H國首都，無數豪門世家紮根於此，其中許家是當之無愧的豪門之首，因此這一年一度的家宴，也舉辦得極其鋪張奢華。 一輛黑色紅旗L9停在了大門口，管家連忙來幫忙拉開車門，男人伸出長腿下車。 “二爺回來了，老爺在屋裡呢，現下除了家榮少爺，其他人也都到了。” 許盛廷聞言，朝他點點頭，徑直往屋裡走。 然而剛靠近主屋，裡面的吵鬧聲就傳了出來。 是他父親，許家家主的聲音，“那混賬東西，婚都退了還非要去招惹人家，還鬧到局子裡去了，簡直丟盡我許家顏面！” “爸，也不能怪我們家榮啊，傳信人說他腦袋都被打破了，分明是受害者！我看是那姓季的，家裡出事想要抓著我們許家不放，糾纏家榮呢！” 許盛廷站在門口沒進去，皺眉問：“怎麼回事？” 老管家尷尬道：“聽說是家榮少爺被他前未婚妻砸破了腦袋，人家姑娘打了120，結果救護車沒到，少爺自己醒了，拉著那姑娘非要報警，現在人被困在局子裡呢。” “他既然是受害者，又為什麼會被扣在警局。” “因為那姑娘跟警察說他試圖侵犯她……” 許盛廷冷笑，隨即推門而入。 與此同時，他大哥許源，估計也是覺得家宴鬧出這事實在丟人，拉著正據理力爭的妻子，勸道：“你別說了，現在當務之急是把家榮接回來。” 他大嫂紅著眼：“警察不肯放人我怎麼接！” “我去接。”冰冷的聲音打斷他們。 “盛廷？”許源尷尬笑道，“你來了，也是，你如今是市長，在警局那邊的面子自然比我們好用。” 許盛廷不置可否，神情冷淡的跟主位上的老爺子打了個招呼。 警局，季靈希坐在和許家榮一欄杆之隔的房間裡，冷眼看著他發瘋。 對此警察也頭疼，他們又何嘗想得罪許家，季靈希雖然控訴許家榮侵犯未遂，但到底拿不出實質的證據，本來教育教育就可以放人。 但許家榮一個嬌生慣養的大少爺，還是第一次被人開瓢，哪裡咽的下這口氣？ 非要強留在這裡死纏爛打，要季靈希坐牢，不然就賠償他五百萬。 五百萬？就憑他頭頂連輕傷都算不上的口子？這不搞笑嘛。 況且罪名雖無法成立，但人家姑娘身上的淤青和破碎的衣服是實打實的，砸他完全是合法自保，他再鬧也沒用啊。 警局外傳來動靜，有人小跑進來，“隊長，許家來人了。” “誰來了？” “好像是許家二爺。” 警長唰得起身，“還不快請進來！” 季靈希聞言抿緊了唇，神態防備。 許家二爺，那不就是許家榮的小叔？肯定是來撈他的。 門被推開，男人高大的身影出現在門口，季靈希警惕地望過去，卻看到了一張意料之外的熟悉的臉。 她人傻了。 怎麼是許盛廷？ ...... 接下來會發生什麼？ 這裡放的章節有限，點選下方按鈕安裝App，繼續閱讀更多精彩章節 （打開應用程式時會自動跳到該書） &5&		Love reading - A		85	https://www.facebook.com/61568188880222/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656501	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 8:07 PM	1735691945	1749258437		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			IMAGE	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468656477_907268181560235_3884693488763478476_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=YUeZhTCrofcQ7kNvgFNxUsz&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCVdfGfrNXo4EukDlWyWyhq46KWnkdLaJloAPfgrn1LCw&oe=677A53AF	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった。		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656939	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 8:09 PM	1735691955	1749258593		2174																											Send message			VIDEO						1.8662208136119E+15	Pastor Joe Persaud	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472010341_944482790538137_2100891881065831326_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bDKITGXYAfcQ7kNvgH68AtL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYBs5vuY1fBwBwoNlr0Ci4_Hjh8Y-VV8vbqXZ1vhCCzGDg&oe=677A6312	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Join us on Tuesday evening 9:00 pm for our Crossover Service. Join us to welcome the New Year 2025! @topfans Pastor Joe Persaud Liberty Bible Fellowship Church Pastor Joe Persaud Sherwin Gardner Jonathan Persaud #miracles #God #deliverance #jesus		Pastor Joe Persaud		100798	https://www.facebook.com/libertychurchny/	0		MESSAGE_PAGE								View Edit Delete
2656759	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 9:06 PM	1735691950	1749262017		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=arVAwv0q7qUQ7kNvgHZBV72&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYCd-Gd05rSfOGGRrZLAvEU6ORCohMppFPow6L1_9dmeAw&oe=677A50EC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2656611	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 11:04 PM	1735691947	1749269074		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656723	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 11:52 PM	1735691949	1749271941		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=b7Dpqf_BljIQ7kNvgGQpYEn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDHd6tmGRa-haSvvd3jFTGz2RaXc2alO6xmQAWsv-keZQ&oe=677A46EB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656742	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 11:52 PM	1735691950	1749271954		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656945	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 10:26 PM	1735691956	1749266767		2174																											Send message			IMAGE	Nana Introduces Harvest Holler					3.7993977520134E+14	Rue Rue and Nana	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472105791_1107198014187629_5882588008224580051_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=rKDbyWMnVE0Q7kNvgHJmnTR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYC6F1wAcDiqLoOXy4Ardl-7TWBwMJ-wzjUaDwkhdbzF5A&oe=677A49D8	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Hey y’all! Rue Rue and I are looking forward to a mighty fine 2025! In case some of you missed seeing just what we’re up to around these parts, we wanted to share this fancy video introduction of Harvest Holler. https://youtu.be/6dmn2-n9GBo?feature=shared		Rue Rue and Nana		72	https://www.facebook.com/61563474442086/	0		MESSAGE_PAGE								View Edit Delete
2656424	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 12:17 AM	1735691943	1749273477		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656581	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 12:35 AM	1735691947	1749274516		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYA269s4quSOiqVLx8eBkMe3YBoyyG45zlXIxHq2rCC0SQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656590	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 12:45 AM	1735691947	1749275116		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656713	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 12:53 AM	1735691949	1749275617		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XhQmwr05aGcQ7kNvgHQbvMH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDXlm9YcMpbe8R-tXH93kTSsbfiJt11V_RhjVlufTPybw&oe=677A7488	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656627	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 2:42 AM	1735691947	1749282120		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469017330_1735206037275029_6955124862834419130_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pP36cG1sNB0Q7kNvgHFwnbr&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYD2gxEGlewkY-sMcNCeopSpHO2rIqNjN8URHP1vpo-4PQ&oe=677A4E99	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2656583	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 2:53 AM	1735691947	1749282836		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYA269s4quSOiqVLx8eBkMe3YBoyyG45zlXIxHq2rCC0SQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656387	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 2:34 AM	1735691942	1749281673		2174																										norvure.com	Shop now			IMAGE	Effortless Styling, Endless Possibilities! 💁‍♀️	40% Off Until Midnight	https://norvure.com/products/curlfection%E2%84%A2-6-in-1-hot-air-styler			1.1075792873604E+14	HappyMe's	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/439953260_983790673351763_4897086255001789744_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=QAzH-3LMUKcQ7kNvgGaX_hG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYD_2kPFRRmB4AQ9HNMKXBxWwL1MkOWqK_NQLbkzxql5Aw&oe=677A6C6E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🌟 Get salon-worthy hair from the comfort of your home with Curlfection™! Say goodbye to complicated routines and hello to effortless styling! 👉 Click Shop Now And Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight!		HappyMe's		4159	https://www.facebook.com/100094368992659/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656938	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 1:35 AM	1735691955	1749278146		2174																										fullcirclestevensville.com	Shop now			IMAGE	Full Circle Cafe & Espresso Bar | Full Circle Stevensville	Scratch-made breakfast, lunch, baked goods, and AMAZING coffee, in an absolutely beautiful cafe setting. Seasonal outdoor dining.	http://FullCircleStevensville.com/			1.143795212327E+15	Full Circle Café & Espresso Bar	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471777102_615658460800979_1302065320800822943_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=No3xkmC2M0wQ7kNvgFwYbVs&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYCBYUWQimWavHqy2vD1fOR8P1cLeT6F9txqdSGiu_bIVA&oe=677A46CB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Happy New Year's Eve to you and yours! We're ready to ring in the New Year as a family of 4 here at home, but we're also excited to get back to the Cafe later this week to get to work, preparing a whole lot of deliciousness for this first weekend of 2025! We're NOW ACCEPTING PREORDERS for our New Year's Pop-Up Event on Saturday, January 4th from 9AM-NOON! Here's what's cooking: Ryan's Biscuits Ryan's English Muffins Creamy Tomato Soup (GF) Curried Chicken Salad (GF) Traditional Hummus (GF, V) Apple Pie Granola (GF, V) Cinnamon Swirl Bread Loaves Banana Bread Loaves Take n' Bake Chicken Pot Pies Maple Pecan Sticky Buns Cinnamon Rolls w/ Vanilla Bean Icing Other items available for purchase now (for pick up Jan 4): Radtke Farms Jams Flagel's Pure Michigan Maple Syrup Full Circle Cookbooks (Only 8 left)! Infusco's Full Circle Blend Coffee (ground or whole bean) Grace Effect Candles Visit FullCircleStevensville.com to reserve your items today. Ryan and I will work diligently to prepare everything on Friday and Saturday, but quantities are limited! Later this week, we'll open up online PREordering for our limited breakfast menu, available for takeout/counter service on Saturday! Full Circle favorites Kaitlyn and Jaxon will be joining us for a morning full of delicious food, amazing coffee, and lots of smiles. Saturday's Limited Breakfast Menu: Ryan's Biscuits & Gravy Loaded Biscuits & Gravy Breakfast Sandwiches Cinnamon French Toast Waffles Again, quantities will be limited! When you PREorder ahead of Saturday's Pop-up event, it will allow us to have enough of everything on hand, and it will ensure your items are reserved. Head on over to FullCircleStevensville.com now and view our online menu to learn more! Please email Jayme@FullCircleStevensville.com with questions! We hope you have a safe and happy New Year's Eve celebration! See you next year! 🥰		Full Circle Café & Espresso Bar		6381	https://www.facebook.com/fullcirclecafeandespressobar/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656635	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 4:14 AM	1735691948	1749287641		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656798	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 3:13 AM	1735691951	1749284022		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656867	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 10:10 PM	1735691952	1749438639		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214135173830250			4.6358262017968E+14	Hello reading-A	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469756210_581152378203413_2931377182013964372_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ObAWQV3OXDsQ7kNvgHkf-qF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYB1DDQlASdmfdlqhLrlL9_t6mhg4efOZdEig5gPxxUJvQ&oe=677A689A	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-A		2	https://www.facebook.com/61570065204033/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656924	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 3:46 AM	1735691955	1749285969		2174																										superthrift.com	No Button			CAROUSEL			http://www.superthrift.com/			4.0002957685789E+14	GoodLife SuperThrift	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471715446_1808457123257386_7687321858465880644_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=n2J2MAphHt0Q7kNvgFQkzsQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYDj6_Cpoait1WQwr0NJveBJyau3Fs0mumpNng7vMbHbOg&oe=677A4C41	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0				GoodLife SuperThrift		6482	https://www.facebook.com/GoodLifeSuperThriftLakeWorth/	0		NO_BUTTON								View Edit Delete
2656694	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 6:44 PM	1735691949	1749426255		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656817	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/1/25, 2:52 AM	1735691951	1748764370		2174																										weihunyu.com	Learn more			IMAGE	이곳을 클릭하고 무료로 읽어보세요!		https://weihunyu.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14990&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.8305355155039E+14	소설의 세계	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471482625_1101816011725383_4177695463050735697_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nssd9mJWIKQQ7kNvgEl3o48&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYDTHn3zNqkftDAiO83iKBaLj_gvdNYn2r99jHmoIGlLzw&oe=677A6681	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		차에서 내리자 나는 저택을 향해 천천히 걸어갔다. 손은 떨리고 몸은 땀으로 범벅이 되었다. 가방에 서류가 있음에도 나는 아직도 그와 이혼했다는 사실이 믿기지 않았다. 집 안으로 들어서자 희미했던 목소리는 점점 더 뚜렷하게 들려왔다. “왜 저랑 엄마랑 같이 살기 싫은 거예요?” 지훈이가 아빠에게 물었다. 아들의 목소리를 듣자 나는 가슴이 미어지는 것 같았다. 아들을 위해서라면 뭐든지 할 수 있었지만 이혼만큼은 어쩔 수 없었다. 우리의 결혼은 처음부터 잘못된 거였다. “지훈아, 너도 알잖아. 난 네 엄마랑 같이 못 살아.” 남편은 부드럽게 대답했다. 결혼 생활 내내 그는 나에게 한 번도 부드럽게 말한 적이 없었다. 항상 차갑고 무뚝뚝한 목소리였다. “왜요?” “별 이유가 없어.” “엄마를 사랑하지 않으세요?” 나는 이미 대답을 알고 있다. 지훈이를 제외한 모든 사람은 그 답을 알고 있을 것이다. 사실 그는 나를 사랑하지 않았다. 한 번도 사랑한 적이 없었고 앞으로도 그럴 것이다. 그는 목을 가다듬으며 시간을 끌었다. “지훈아...” “엄마를 사랑하냐고요?” 남편은 땅이 꺼지도록 한숨을 쉬었다. “너를 낳아줘서 고맙지.” 그건 대답이 아니라 위로였다. 나는 너무 슬픈 나머지 지그시 눈을 감았다. 그의 대답을 기대한 내가 바보였다. 그는 결혼 생활 내내 나에게 솔직하지 못했다. 나는 그에게 모든 것을 주었지만 돌아온 것은 고통과 상처뿐이었다. 우리는 결혼했지만, 둘만의 결혼이 아니라 셋이 함께하는 결혼 같았다. 우리 둘 그리고 그가 9년 동안 포기하지 못한 그 여자와 함께 말이다. “이렇게 몰래 엿듣는 건 예의가 아니지.” 그의 차분한 목소리가 들리자 나는 깜짝 놀랐다. 정신을 차린 후 나는 어깨를 펴고 부엌으로 들어갔다. 카운터 옆에 서 있는 저 남자는 나의 전남편인 우현수이다. 그의 눈빛을 보자 나는 얼어붙었다. 그래서 자연스럽게 아들 지훈이를 쳐다봤다. “지훈아.” “엄마!” “보고 싶었어요.” “나도 보고 싶었어.” 나는 지훈이의 이마에 가볍게 뽀뽀하고 지훈이는 다시 샌드위치를 먹으러 갔다. 한때는 내 집이었던 곳에서 나는 어색하게 서 있었다. 나는 처음부터 이곳과 맞지 않았다. 우현수는 알게 모르게 그녀를 염두에 두고 집을 지었다. 이건 그녀를 포기하지 않을 거라는 첫 번째 신호였다. 전혀 나를 생각하지도 않았다. “여기서 뭐 해?” “지훈이랑 있을 때 무턱대고 찾아오지 말라고 했잖아.” “그래... 오늘 이혼 판결문을 받고 그걸 너에게 주고 지훈이를 데려오고 싶어서...” 그러자 우현수의 안색은 금세 어두워졌다. 나는 그의 표정을 보며 가슴이 미어지는 것 같았다. 나는 정말 그를 사랑했지만 그에게 나는 아무 의미 없는 존재였다. 그는 한 번 또 한 번 나에게 상처를 줬다. 나는 참고 버티면서 그가 변할 거라고 생각했지만 달라진 건 아무것도 없었다. 나는 가슴을 문지르며 감정을 추슬렀다. 몇 달 동안 헤어져 있었음에도 여전히 가슴이 아팠다. “지훈아, 네 방으로 돌아가. 너희 엄마랑 할 얘기가 있어.” 지훈이는 우리를 잠시 바라보더니 고개를 끄덕였다. “싸우지 마세요.” 지훈이가 멀리 떠난 것을 확인하자 우현수는 화가 난 듯 카운터를 세게 내리쳤고 눈빛은 얼음처럼 차가웠다. “사무실로 보내도 되잖아. 왜 꼭 지훈이랑 있을 때 찾아 와?” “현수야...” 나는 한숨을 쉬며 말을 이어가지 못했다. “닥쳐! 너는 9년 전 내 인생을 망쳤어. 그러면서 뭐라고? 이혼? 그게 네가 복수하는 방식이야? 한수아! 당장 꺼져!” 우현수는 숨이 가쁘도록 욕설을 쏟아부었다. 그의 말들은 마치 총알처럼 나에게 다가왔다. 이미 상처 난 나의 가슴을 다시 한번 산산조각 내는 것 같았다. “나는...” 사랑하는 남자에게서 꺼지라는 말을 들었을 때 나는 무슨 말을 해야 할까? “당장 이 집에서 꺼져... 돌아갈 시간이 되면 지훈이를 데려다 줄 거니까.” 우현수는 신경질적으로 소리쳤다. 이혼 판결문을 카운터 위에 내려놓고 사과하려고 하는 순간 핸드폰이 울렸다. 엄마한테서 걸려 온 전화였다. 엄마는 중요한 일이 있을 때만 전화를 건다. 그래서 모른 척할 수 없었다. “엄마...” 내 말이 끝나기도 전에 엄마가 말을 끊었다. “당장 병원으로 와! 네 아빠가 칼에 찔렸어.” 충격을 받은 나는 핸드폰을 땅에 떨구었다. “무슨 일이야?” 우현수가 물었다. 나는 떨리는 심장을 부여잡고 고개도 들지 않은 채 핸드폰을 주우며 대답했다. “아빠가 칼에 찔렸어.”		소설의 세계		690	https://www.facebook.com/61557428073507/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656784	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:51 AM	1735691950	1749369104		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656958	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:32 AM	1735691956	1749367925		2174																											Send message			VIDEO						1.0018705960007E+14	Synthetic Turf INW	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472013013_4840096116215978_9068607080982407742_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bYsgod49r9EQ7kNvgHduXoS&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYBtDARBUNiBeGnV9T6iUkx0aEv7tMLn3sP3Ef9miVNLcQ&oe=677A643C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Here's a 5 minute walk around of a 10,000 square foot synthetic green we installed with our Synthetic Turf International products. This project was spread out over 9 acres and is an absolute blast to play! Shots can be taken from 100, 80, 60, 40 and 20 yards on 3 different greens. All the greens are set up different for different scenarios.		Synthetic Turf INW		198	https://www.facebook.com/100087858768236/	0		MESSAGE_PAGE								View Edit Delete
2656539	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:32 AM	1735691946	1749367959		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656591	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:49 AM	1735691947	1749368942		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656619	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:49 AM	1735691947	1749368956		2174																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oy1vAKbjbb4Q7kNvgEKUn0w&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYB7KkKVjI93MwbKMq9yf4NK03YM12NW2VdZzoQKW8o3qw&oe=677A7472	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656582	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:49 AM	1735691947	1749368964		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYA269s4quSOiqVLx8eBkMe3YBoyyG45zlXIxHq2rCC0SQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656637	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:13 AM	1735691948	1749366816		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656686	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:24 AM	1735691948	1749367446		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656474	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:25 AM	1735691944	1749367510		2174																										web.weread.mobi	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter		https://web.weread.mobi/57632322-fb_contact-enr25_2-c3-0727-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1166169688155768&rawadid=120214820499840597			1.1255974861342E+14	Hello Read	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471680239_1629199147676894_4408196957617306894_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ppGU5UpvAvoQ7kNvgEoFUrV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYD_bGA6kCgFj1GJHTrznGSXrdMZ9tPB6WbVQVZssELQvg&oe=677A5E2B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		She was overjoyed when she found out she was pregnant, but she saw her husband having intimate with his first love. She left the divorce agreement in tears, hiding her pregnant belly and departing with a broken heart... ===== "Ms. Wright, congratulations! Your baby's very healthy." Jenessa Wright walked out of the hospital in a daze, clutching the pregnancy test result close to her chest. She was pregnant with Ryan's baby! Looking down, she absentmindedly caressed her still-flat belly and broke into a smile. Grinning like silly, Jenessa hurriedly took out her phone to call Ryan Haynes, her husband, excited to share the wonderful news. However, just as she was about to dial his number, her phone buzzed. It read, "Come to Imodon Hotel right now." It was a message from Ryan. Imodon Hotel? Why'd he want her to go there all of a sudden? Jenessa was puzzled, but she didn't hesitate for long. She hailed a cab and headed straight to the hotel. Since Ryan wanted to see her, she figured she might as well tell him the good news in person. With her heart pounding in anticipation, Jenessa arrived at the hotel. As soon as she stepped out of the car, she noticed the lobby was adorned with flowers and a brand-new red carpet, clearly prepared for a celebration. Jenessa paused, momentarily stunned, before remembering that today was their wedding anniversary. Could it be that Ryan had asked her to come here to surprise her? She smiled to herself, wondering idly how Ryan would react to the news of her pregnancy. Jenessa wove her way through the crowd, her plain attire blending into the festive scene unnoticed. It didn't take long for her to spot the dazzlingly handsome man, who easily stood out among the crowd. He was none other than her husband, Ryan Haynes, the father of their child. Just as a smile started to form on her lips, she spotted the woman standing next to Ryan, and her smile froze. That woman was Ryan's first love, Maisie Powell! Since when was Maisie back in town? Jenessa stood glued to her spot, paralyzed as she watched Ryan and Maisie entertain the guests like a perfect couple. Friends surrounded the two, and they seemed to be offering them their congratulations. "Maisie, you're finally home. This deserves a toast!" "Ryan, after all these years, you and Maisie have finally reunited. Doesn't that call for a celebratory drink?" Gradually, the teasing grew louder. Maisie, dressed to the nines in a s*xy red dress and exquisite makeup, chuckled graciously. "Quit teasing us, you guys. Ryan already has a wife." At the mention of Jenessa, the people around showed disdain. "Jenessa? Please! Ryan only married her to appease his grandma!" "Exactly! Ryan has always wanted to marry you. Right, Ryan?" Ryan, looking like a prince in his custom-tailored suit, radiated a cool, unique charisma. "Alright, enough already; stop teasing Maisie," he said coolly. "She can't drink; let me drink on her behalf." As soon as he said this, his friends' laughter and teasing grew even more intense. "Hey, Ryan, what the heck? You're being so protective of her, aren't you? Fine! If she can't drink, then you'll have to drink her share! And you're not allowed to leave until you've finished!" Amidst the boisterous teasing, Ryan remained cool and collected, but there was an unmistakable hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Next to him, Maisie lowered her head and blushed shyly. This loving scene was so glaring that it pierced Jenessa's heart. She didn't know when or how, but she somehow ended up outside the hotel, only realizing it when the cold raindrops hit her face. The chilly wind and drizzling rain enveloped her, and in no time, a fierce storm broke out, soaking her to her bones. Still, she didn't move an inch and simply stared blankly at the rain. Why had Ryan called her over? Was this all just a ploy to make her witness their affection and gracefully surrender her place as his wife to his beloved Maisie? Jenessa's breathing grew heavy. Looking around in a daze, she figured there was nothing she could do but leave this wretched place. With stiff, deliberate steps, she trudged home in the rain. Standing at the doorway, she gazed at the familiar house, her thoughts drifting. Two years ago, when her family was on the brink of bankruptcy, they tried salvaging their situation by marrying her off into the Haynes family. Ryan was initially unwilling, but because his gravely ill grandma kept pressuring him, he reluctantly agreed to the arranged marriage. Now that his grandma's health had improved and Maisie was back from abroad, Jenessa thought maybe it was time for her to pack her things and leave Ryan. Jenessa didn't know how long she stood in front of the house before the sound of a car engine reached her ears. Then, Ryan's deep voice spoke beside her. "Jenessa, why are you standing here, out in the rain?" Chapter 2 I Want A Divorce In a daze, Jenessa looked up, only to meet the stern gaze of the man standing before her. Was she seeing things? What was Ryan doing here? Maisie had just returned from abroad; shouldn't he be spending time with the woman he loved? Ryan couldn't help but frown when he didn't receive a response from Jenessa. Jenessa, soaking wet from the rain, looked like a drowned rat. With her long, dark hair plastered to her pale cheeks, water dripping steadily from the ends, she seemed so helpless and pitiful. "What on earth happened to you?" Ryan questioned, his tone sounding a bit harsher than intended. Jenessa recalled how gentle and affectionate he was with Maisie at the hotel earlier, causing her heart to ache. It was painfully clear that Ryan's attitude towards the woman he loved and the one he didn't were worlds apart. Trying hard to swallow the bitter taste in her mouth, Jenessa forced a smile and softly explained, "It started raining on my way back home, and I didn't have an umbrella, so I got drenched-" While speaking, her nose suddenly itched unbearably, and she couldn't help but sneeze loudly. But instead of pitying her, Ryan only frowned deeper. "You're not a child anymore. If you get caught in the rain, the first thing you should do when you get home is dry off and change your clothes. Do I really need to spell things out for you?" The smile on Jenessa's face stiffened. "I-I'm sorry..." "Go get changed quickly, or else you'll catch a cold." Ryan seemed too impatient with her to say anything more, so he bypassed her and walked inside the house. Catch a cold? Only then did Jenessa remember that she was pregnant; she couldn't afford to get sick, lest she put the baby in harm's way. With that in mind, she hurried to her room, took a hot shower, and let the warm water chase away the chill. Wrapped in a towel, she stepped out of the steam-filled bathroom, only to find Ryan standing in her way. She gasped in surprise and instinctively clutched her towel more tightly around her chest. Ryan's sharp gaze remained fixed on her, and upon noticing her reaction, he asked indifferently, "Why should you be nervous? It's nothing I haven't already seen." Jenessa's face flushed bright red as memories of their passionate, intimate nights together flashed before her eyes. Without waiting for a response, Ryan casually held out a cold medicine pill and a glass of water. "Here, take this." Jenessa hesitantly glanced at the pill in his hand, worried that it might not be good for the baby. "Well, I think I'll be fine without it. After all, I was only in the rain for a while." Unexpectedly, Ryan refused to let her off the hook. "Have you seen yourself in the mirror? You're as pale as a ghost. We're visiting Grandma tomorrow, so you'd better not get sick, you hear me?" But Jenessa, worried about the baby, stubbornly resisted. "I just need to drink something warm, that's all. I'm fine, really." At this point, Ryan's patience wore thin. He decisively popped the pill in his mouth and drank some water from the glass. "Ryan, what're you- Agh!" Before Jenessa could get another word out, Ryan leaned closer, his tall frame looming over her, and grabbed her delicate chin. Forcing her to raise her head, he planted his lips firmly on hers. The pill and water then flowed into her mouth, and he didn't loosen his grip until he was certain that she had swallowed the pill. The sudden kiss made Jenessa dizzy, washing away all her inhibitions. Ryan's desires were stirred, and he carried her over to the bed. He pulled away from her for the briefest of moments to undo his tie, his eyes burning with an all-consuming desire for her. When Jenessa met his intense gaze, she snapped back to reality and cried out, "No!" Trembling, she pushed against his rock-hard chest. "Hmm?" Ryan stopped in his tracks, wondering if he had misheard. He tried to kiss Jenessa again, but she decisively turned her head away, avoiding his eyes. "Ryan, I..." She gulped, struggling to get the words out. "I want a divorce." Her words extinguished Ryan's desires in the blink of an eye. Annoyance flashing across his face, he coldly grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his deep eyes staring piercingly into hers. "Say that again?" Jenessa's heart skipped a beat. Still, she managed to suppress the turbulent emotions inside her and bravely met Ryan's intense gaze. "I said, I want a divorce." A flicker of unreadable emotion crossed Ryan's eyes. "Why?" Jenessa was taken aback by his question, confusion and bewilderment evident on her face. Why else? To fulfill his wish to marry his beloved Maisie, of course. "Because..." Her voice trailed off feebly, unable to utter the obvious. "Is your family in financial trouble again? This is about money?" Ryan looked down at her icily. "Jenessa, don't you know your place? If you need something, just say it. Don't play these little games with me, because I do not have the patience for this bullshit." Jenessa quietly clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. So, Ryan assumed that her request for a divorce was just one of her games, an attempt to leverage the situation for her benefit? Jenessa smiled bitterly, but her eyes showed a look of uncharacteristically fierce determination. "Don't worry. I don't want anything but a divorce. Ryan, we were going to get a divorce sooner or later, so what difference does it make?" Ryan didn't respond immediately. He just stared at her with a strange, serious look in his eyes. His silence sent Jenessa into a trance, a mix of anxiety and inexplicable flicker of hope taking root in her heart. "Or... do you not want a divorce?" Chapter 3 Look Out, World! The thought that Ryan might want to stay married made Jenessa's heart skip a beat, her chest heaving from anticipation. However, under her hopeful gaze, Ryan scoffed coldly. "Jenessa, don't kid yourself." His tone was full of mockery, each word piercing her heart like a knife. "Do you really think I'd say 'no' to a divorce?" He locked eyes with her, his gaze icy cold. "Remember this, Jenessa-you're the one who asked for a divorce. You'd better not come crawling back to me when it's all said and done." With that, he got out of bed and left, slamming the door behind him. Jenessa lay despondently on the bed, her heart heavy with disappointment. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she gently placed a hand on her belly, feeling the little life growing inside her. She had originally planned to tell Ryan the good news, but in the span of just a few hours, they were on the brink of divorce. After thinking about it a moment or two, she decided it was best to keep Ryan in the dark about her pregnancy. Even if they separated ways, she could raise the baby on her own. Then, thinking about her job as Ryan's secretary, she felt a pang of helplessness. Ryan's grandma had arranged for her to work under Ryan to nurture their relationship, and back then, it seemed like a good idea. But now, things were different, and it was high time she left that job. The following morning, as soon as Jenessa arrived at the WorldLink Group's headquarters, a few of her more gossipy colleagues surrounded her. "Jenessa, we've been waiting for you all morning! What's going on with Mr. Haynes and that Maisie girl? Are they an item now?" "News of Mr. Haynes throwing a welcome-home party for international supermodel Maisie Powell went viral overnight. He even invited all his friends. Looks like he's planning to make their relationship public soon!" "I heard that after the party, they spent the night together. Maybe she's his future wife!" Jenessa felt a pang of bitterness as she listened. After a brief hesitation, she replied despondently, "I don't know much about it." Her colleagues exchanged glances and rolled eyes. Obviously, they didn't believe her. "Come on, Jenessa! You're Mr. Haynes' secretary. You know him better than anyone. How could you not know any insider information? Just spill the beans already!" Jenessa forced a weak smile. Everyone knew that she was Ryan's secretary, but very few people knew that she was also Ryan's wife. He was even reluctant to make their relationship public. With a soft sigh, she stood her ground more firmly. "I really don't know, okay? Enough with the gossip." The colleagues wanted to press her further, but Jenessa cut them off before they could get another word out. "I said there's nothing to say, so quit pestering me. Were you all hired just to gossip? Get back to work, all of you!" Her stern expression made them uneasy, but she was right; they had to comply. "Okay, okay, we get it." As Jenessa walked away, they couldn't help but mutter and grumble among themselves. "Who does she think she is? Acting all high and mighty. Humph! She's not the only secretary here." "Yeah, when she started working here out of the blue three years ago, we all thought she had some kind of relationship with Mr. Haynes. But in the end, he didn't pay her any special attention-never took her to meetings with clients. She's his personal secretary, but what of it? Just eye candy!" "Her days here are numbered. Once Maisie marries Mr. Haynes, Jenessa will be the first one to go. After all, who would trust a pretty secretary around their man?" "Exactly!" Their laughter and unrestrained chatter filled the office, but Jenessa turned a deaf ear to it all and walked straight to her desk, immersing herself in her work. She knew how those seemingly friendly colleagues truly saw her. But she couldn't argue with them, because even she herself felt like a joke. Before she knew it, it was time to get off work, and most of the secretaries had already gone home. Just as Jenessa was packing her things, she received a call from her best friend, Brinley Lloyd. "Hey, I saw the news this morning. What the hell is going on with Ryan and that Maisie girl? Just rumors, right?" Hearing the disbelief in Brinley's voice, Jenessa sighed heavily. "It's true." Brinley gasped in shock mixed with horror. "What the hell?!" Throughout the day, Jenessa had thought things through, so she was relatively calm as she explained, "In the first place, Ryan and I only got married as part of an agreement. I always knew he had no feelings for me; he only married me because his grandma insisted. Now that the woman he loves is back in the picture, there's no reason for me to stay. It's time to let them be together." Brinley felt both incredulous and indignant. "But... What about the baby? Weren't you going to surprise him?" "Would it be a wonderful surprise to him? Or a horrifying shock?" Jenessa instinctively touched her flat belly, a bitter smile on her lips. "Anyway, what matters is I've made up my mind- I want a divorce, and I'll raise this baby on my own. There's no need for him to know." "Seriously, a divorce? Are you sure about that?" Brinley sounded very concerned. "If you don't want him to know you're pregnant, then you can't keep working at WorldLink. Your belly will get bigger and bigger." "Don't worry, I'm way ahead of you. I'll resign soon. Then, I can finally go back to doing what I truly love." The mention of her long-lost dreams brought a rare smile to Jenessa's face. "Oh, my God! Jenessa, are you going back to your old career?" Brinley was thrilled. "That's fantastic! I always believed in you! You're a genius designer! Look out, world-Sloane Todd, a legend in the fashion design world, is coming! You shouldn't have wasted your talents as Ryan's secretary all these years. He's not worth it!" "Sloane Todd..." Jenessa felt a bit dazed at the mention of that long-forgotten pseudonym. For Ryan, she had lost herself for so long. She almost forgot who she truly was. "Jenessa." A magnetic, masculine voice suddenly sounded behind her. Startled, Jenessa whirled around to find a stern-looking Ryan standing behind her. Chapter 4 A Bun In The Oven "Ry-I mean, Mr. Haynes! What are you doing here?" Jenessa was so startled that she fumbled for the right words, having been caught completely off guard. She hurriedly ended the call, her jittery gaze searching Ryan's face for any signs of anger, feeling inexplicably scared and flustered. When had Ryan arrived? How much had he overheard? "Weren't we supposed to visit Grandma at the hospital today?" Ryan asked, impatience evident in his tone. Only then did Jenessa remember that they had indeed made plans that day. Lowering her head apologetically, she murmured, "I... I'm sorry." "Hmph," Ryan grunted indifferently. As though unwilling to spare another glance at her, he turned around and walked out, saying briskly, "Let's go." It took the dazed Jenessa a second before she snapped to her senses and quickly caught up to him. On the way to the hospital, her mind was in turmoil. A complex mix of emotions plagued her heart as she anxiously wondered if Ryan had overheard her conversation with Brinley. But then she figured, if Ryan had heard that she planned to secretly raise their baby on her own, he wouldn't be so calm now. The two sat side by side in the back seat in complete silence. Naturally, Jenessa's distracted demeanor was a bit hard to ignore. Ryan couldn't stand it anymore. Brows furrowed, he turned his head slightly and demanded, "What's going on with you?" His deep voice startled Jenessa, interrupting her thoughts. "N-nothing," she stammered hastily. "Is that so?" Ryan spoke slowly, his tone carrying a hint of doubt. Jenessa's racing heart pounded in her chest. Just as she opened her mouth to defend herself, Ryan's magnetic voice suddenly sounded again, this time a lot closer to her ear. "If it really is nothing, then why are you avoiding me? Why won't you look at me, hmm?" Jenessa, frozen in place, dared not move an inch. A barely audible scoff escaped Ryan as he reached out one hand, gently grasping the back of her neck. From the corner of her eye, Jenessa saw him leaning in slowly...... ...... ==== To the public, she was the CEO's executive secretary. Behind closed doors, she was the wife he never officially acknowledged. Jenessa was elated when she learned that she was pregnant. But that joy was replaced with dread as her husband, Ryan, showered his affections on his first love. With a heavy heart, she chose to set him free and leave, only to be caught by Ryan... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&		Hello Read		1005	https://www.facebook.com/61550873765205/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656726	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:09 AM	1735691949	1749370190		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656571	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:09 AM	1735691947	1749370193		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656741	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:10 AM	1735691950	1749370217		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656908	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:12 AM	1735691954	1749370375		2174																										The Jarekus Singleton Band Live at Martin's Downtown	INTERESTED			EVENT	The Jarekus Singleton Band Live at Martin's Downtown	The Jarekus Singleton Band Live at Martin's Downtown February 8 | Doors 9 pm | Presented By Rybolt Productions "Stinging blues guitar and potent, original songs herald the emergence of a major new talent." --USA Today "Jarekus Singleton is an exciting new young blues guitarist with melody, hooks, swagger and a strong, original voice. His lyrics are modern, personal, acutely poetic and deeply mature." --Washington Post "Jarekus Singleton is destined to be the next big name in the blues world." --Blues & Rhythm Magazine (UK) "High-energy, rock-tinged and tough…a winning blend of modern-day blues and emotionally intense soul with melodic, hot-toned lead guitar, funk-seasoned rhythms and hip-hop flavored lyrics. Singleton creates unpredictable and challenging music that sounds both firmly rooted in blues tradition and fearlessly dedicated to breaking boundaries and blazing new paths." --Living Blues At just 30 years old, Jarekus Singleton is a musical trailblazer with a bold vision for the future of the blues. Springing from the same Mississippi soil as Charley Patton, Muddy Waters and B.B. King, Singleton’s cutting-edge sound—equally rooted in rap, rock and blues traditions—is all his own. He melds hip-hop wordplay, rock energy and R&B grooves with contemporary and traditional blues, turning audiences of all ages into devoted fans. With his untamed guitar licks and strong, soulful voice effortlessly moving from ferocious and funky to slow and steamy to smoking hot, Singleton is a fresh, electrifying bluesman bursting at the seams with talent. Singleton's Alligator debut, Refuse To Lose, features a scintillating guitar attack and lyrically startling original songs all sung with a natural storyteller’s voice. Produced by Singleton along with Alligator Records president Bruce Iglauer and recorded at PM Music in Memphis, the album is an impossible-to-ignore first step onto the world stage. With songs telling real life, streetwise (sometimes funny) stories brimming with surprising images, pop culture references, infectious rhythms and unexpected musical twists, Refuse To Lose unleashes a new wave of blues for a new generation of fans. Jarekus Singleton has been tearing up clubs and festivals across the South, and has performed twice at the world-renowned Chicago Blues Festival. He has been featured at South Carolina's Lowcountry Blues Festival and Festival of Discovery as well as many other festivals in the South and clubs throughout Mississippi. With the addition of high-visibility performances including Springing The Blues Festival, Biscuits & Blues in San Francisco, The North Atlantic Blues Festival, The PA Blues Festival, The Cincinnati Blues Festival, and The Festival International du Blues de Mont-Tremblant, Singleton is on the cusp of international stardom.	https://www.facebook.com/events/918089637114874/			2.5581359121763E+14	Martin's Downtown	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472100823_970622228250002_248309613599231185_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M8NJtzP4as8Q7kNvgHUHsUZ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYB-jTe8sAR8M92BpxnhAsLrxiF8j3Que-Ly2uBnoW7z_g&oe=677A658F	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		The Jarekus Singleton Band Live at Martin's Downtown February 8 | Doors 9 pm | Presented By Rybolt Productions "Stinging blues guitar and potent, original songs herald the emergence of a major new talent." --USA Today "Jarekus Singleton is an exciting new young blues guitarist with melody, hooks, swagger and a strong, original voice. His lyrics are modern, personal, acutely poetic and deeply mature." --Washington Post "Jarekus Singleton is destined to be the next big name in the blues world." --Blues & Rhythm Magazine (UK) "High-energy, rock-tinged and tough…a winning blend of modern-day blues and emotionally intense soul with melodic, hot-toned lead guitar, funk-seasoned rhythms and hip-hop flavored lyrics. Singleton creates unpredictable and challenging music that sounds both firmly rooted in blues tradition and fearlessly dedicated to breaking boundaries and blazing new paths." --Living Blues At just 30 years old, Jarekus Singleton is a musical trailblazer with a bold vision for the future of the blues. Springing from the same Mississippi soil as Charley Patton, Muddy Waters and B.B. King, Singleton’s cutting-edge sound—equally rooted in rap, rock and blues traditions—is all his own. He melds hip-hop wordplay, rock energy and R&B grooves with contemporary and traditional blues, turning audiences of all ages into devoted fans. With his untamed guitar licks and strong, soulful voice effortlessly moving from ferocious and funky to slow and steamy to smoking hot, Singleton is a fresh, electrifying bluesman bursting at the seams with talent. Singleton's Alligator debut, Refuse To Lose, features a scintillating guitar attack and lyrically startling original songs all sung with a natural storyteller’s voice. Produced by Singleton along with Alligator Records president Bruce Iglauer and recorded at PM Music in Memphis, the album is an impossible-to-ignore first step onto the world stage. With songs telling real life, streetwise (sometimes funny) stories brimming with surprising images, pop culture references, infectious rhythms and unexpected musical twists, Refuse To Lose unleashes a new wave of blues for a new generation of fans. Jarekus Singleton has been tearing up clubs and festivals across the South, and has performed twice at the world-renowned Chicago Blues Festival. He has been featured at South Carolina's Lowcountry Blues Festival and Festival of Discovery as well as many other festivals in the South and clubs throughout Mississippi. With the addition of high-visibility performances including Springing The Blues Festival, Biscuits & Blues in San Francisco, The North Atlantic Blues Festival, The PA Blues Festival, The Cincinnati Blues Festival, and The Festival International du Blues de Mont-Tremblant, Singleton is on the cusp of international stardom.		Martin's Downtown		17331	https://www.facebook.com/MartinsDowntownJXN/	0		EVENT_RSVP								View Edit Delete
2656748	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:13 AM	1735691950	1749370408		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656736	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:14 AM	1735691950	1749370455		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656606	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:14 AM	1735691947	1749370479		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656718	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:15 AM	1735691949	1749370540		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=b7Dpqf_BljIQ7kNvgGQpYEn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDHd6tmGRa-haSvvd3jFTGz2RaXc2alO6xmQAWsv-keZQ&oe=677A46EB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656725	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:17 AM	1735691949	1749370644		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468305309_578542508038743_2063057565283715572_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wC3nrW4kwHgQ7kNvgHo-aPl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYC6-OdwU5iNoaoYZhjcrt8HW58V9E-SUCRORlkPUHxUsg&oe=677A5AC9	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2656400	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:17 AM	1735691943	1749370655		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656605	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:19 AM	1735691947	1749370783		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656652	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:54 AM	1735691948	1749369271		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vVbgWEWv_80Q7kNvgE5MWAN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYBCBtKDcpID1uHaZxjCimRCGhLAeHRqh2UQBQlJSrdp2A&oe=677A7152	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656692	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 4:22 AM	1735691949	1749374530		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656801	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 4:27 AM	1735691951	1749374839		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656426	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 5:27 AM	1735691943	1749378470		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656671	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 5:07 AM	1735691948	1749377237		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656714	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 5:34 AM	1735691949	1749378873		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XhQmwr05aGcQ7kNvgHQbvMH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDXlm9YcMpbe8R-tXH93kTSsbfiJt11V_RhjVlufTPybw&oe=677A7488	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656514	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 5:42 AM	1735691945	1749379326		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656428	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691943	1748420570		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656688	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 7:05 AM	1735691949	1749384351		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656720	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691949	1748420570		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=b7Dpqf_BljIQ7kNvgGQpYEn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDHd6tmGRa-haSvvd3jFTGz2RaXc2alO6xmQAWsv-keZQ&oe=677A46EB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656780	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 8:10 AM	1735691950	1749388243		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656875	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 8:32 PM	1735691952	1749864726		2174																										fbweb.cdreader.com	Learn more			VIDEO	閱讀下一章👉		https://fbweb.cdreader.com/130853449-fb_contact-ft-p103_2-c2-1128-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=809076924536970&rawadid=120215590346460134			4.7515149567892E+14	Love reading - A	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469278195_8836437306444352_4260428875531582835_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=WNORGzgKHLkQ7kNvgF0FWei&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYC_4aGIjMVQLhLNNhBXgBkD2uJ3Oa2nad52yano_Q-nGA&oe=677A61DB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		她愛上拯救她的陌生男人，卻得知他竟然就是拿她父親貪污案做墊腳石上位的新任市長！血海深仇，她毅然離去，男人卻瘋了，滿城尋她求原諒！ ===== “季小姐，出來吧，你叔叔已經將你五十萬賣給我了，以後跟著我吃香喝辣，你什麼活也不用幹，只管敞開腿伺候就成。” 轟隆聲響起，暴雨傾盆而下，一道閃電劈開長夜照亮了男人肥肉橫生的猥瑣面孔，他半邊臉擠在門框上變了形，眼神卻不停往門縫裡瞄。 房間內，季靈希渾身發抖的死死抵著門。 “滾……滾啊！！”她崩潰大喊，“我有未婚夫，他不會放過你的！” “未婚夫？你是說那位許家孫少爺？”男人爆發出嘲笑，“怎麼？季小姐不會還不知道自己早已經被退婚了吧？嗤，被玩膩的破鞋，還裝什麼矜持！” 說完，他肥豬一般的龐大身軀猛然往脆弱的門上一撞！ “啊！”季靈希被突然劇震的門板嚇到後退，雙手顫抖，“退婚？不可能，不可能……” 可真的不可能嗎？ 自從一個月前，季靈希的父親被誣陷貪汙腐敗入獄，母親車禍後昏迷不醒，整個季氏家族就走向了衰亡。 鉅額家產被全部凍結清算，一夜之間，她從千金小姐變成了負債上億的乞丐。 明天她所在的這套房子也要被查封，她是來取最後的行李的，卻正好被那二叔拿捏了行蹤，居然要乘機將她賣給這將近五十歲的死肥豬男！ 眾叛親離，她徹底一無所有了！ 門外，那死肥豬男的不耐煩的聲音再次傳來：“老子可沒耐心陪你玩小兔子乖乖的開門遊戲，去！讓人把鑰匙送上來！” 他有鑰匙！ 季靈希猝然白了臉，一旦門被破開，結局可想而知。 到時候就算是被侵犯致死都沒人會來替她收屍！ 逃！ 季靈希腦海裡只剩下這一個念頭。 身後窗戶大開，狂風裹挾著暴雨入侵，溼透的窗簾翻飛，天際電蛇狂舞，雷聲轟鳴。 她含著淚一咬牙，猛地衝到了窗前。 二樓而已，摔不死！ 縱身一躍—— 在大腦都壓根沒反應過來之前，人已經滾落在了地面草坪上，渾身溼透沾著汙泥。 “嘶！”說不出到底是哪疼，總之通身都像是要摔散架一般。 “人呢？”“翻窗跑了！”聲音從二樓傳來。 季靈希立刻胡亂爬起來，逃命時腎上激素的飆升讓她爆發出無與倫比的潛力。 逃，快逃，快逃啊！ 她趁著夜色和暴雨的掩蓋，就這樣生生衝出了灌木叢生的後院，往路口奔跑而去。 與此同時，馬路盡頭一輛黑色紅旗飛馳而來，車燈射穿雨幕，照在了突然出現，試圖橫穿馬路的黑影身上！ “我去！”司機沒忍住爆了一聲粗口，猛踩剎車的同時狂打方向盤。 後座衣衫考究的斯文男人猝不及防被巨大的慣性所挾持，一腦袋撞在了前座靠背上。 “砰”一聲悶響。 司機頓時魂飛魄散，“市市……市長先生！你沒事吧！？” 男人黑著臉，“你應該問問被你撞的人有沒有事。”說完，他推門下車查看。 黑色傘面被暴雨沖刷，男人腳踩一雙高定皮鞋，踏著汙水來到昏倒在地的女人面前。 司機哭喪著臉，“我明明踩剎車了，好像沒撞到她啊？” “不是你撞的。”男人一眼看出端倪，冷笑了聲，“碰瓷？膽子倒大。” 說完，他冷漠收回目光，轉身就走。 “等等……”剛剛還“昏迷”不醒的女人突然出聲，伸出一隻髒兮兮的手，飛快地拽住了男人剪裁利落乾淨的褲腳，抬起臉虛弱道：“別走，他們在追我，求你救、救我……” 這個聲音…… 男人腳步一頓，回過頭來，漆黑的眸子居高臨下看清了車燈下那張沾著泥土的臉，瞳孔驟縮。 “這、這不是孫少爺的未婚妻嗎！是市長先生您的侄媳婦啊！”司機率先驚叫。 “呵，”男人語調嘲諷，“我侄媳婦？” 他們在說什、什麼……什麼市長媳婦的…… 季靈希眼前男人的臉早就化作重影，耳邊一片嗡嗡，逃到這裡已經耗盡了她所有的力氣，到最後也只能全憑本能的死死抓著那塊一絲一線都昂貴至極的“救命稻草”不放。 男人似乎蹲下了身，但季靈希已經徹底支撐不住，昏厥了過去。 第2章 私人醫生 再醒來是在陌生的房間，窗外是炫目的白晝。 床邊穿著白大褂的醫生正在收拾工具，見季靈希睜眼，立刻高呼：“先生，人醒了！” 男人很快推門進來，對上了床上女人一雙迷茫受驚的小鹿般的眼，眼底是深刻的防備和恐懼。 他走近床邊，“醒了？燒退了嗎？” 冰冰冷冷，有點熟悉的聲音，更熟悉的是那張面無表情的臉。 “……許先生？”季靈希認出人，瞪大眼睛，“怎麼是你？” 這個男人她認識，是她的患者。 季靈希大學一畢業就入職了京市第一人民醫院心內科，許盛廷是她接手的第一個病人。 但神奇的是，許盛廷患有的並非是任何心臟類疾病，而是應該歸屬為精神科的睡眠障礙。 他患有嚴重失眠症，入睡困難，曾有過長達一個月未合過眼，最後暈厥在辦公室的記錄，他的上一位心理醫生對他束手無措，可機緣巧合下，卻發現許盛廷對季靈希的聲音有特殊反應，能依靠她的聲音睡著！ 於是他便被轉到了季靈希名下，成為了一個“特殊”病人。 這段時間的變故讓季靈希分身乏術，醫院那邊不得已請了長假，倒是許久沒有為許盛廷催眠了。 季靈希看著男人那張過分英俊的臉，高挺的鼻樑在臉頰落下陰影，嘴唇偏薄顯得不近人情，一雙冷靜威嚴的鷹眸底下，卻掛著兩個煞風景的黑眼圈。 眼睛裡也有不少紅血絲，顯然是太久沒能休息，精神高度緊繃造成的。 “謝謝許先生救了我。”季靈希坐起身，小臉脆弱蒼白。 回想起暈倒前的一切，她沒想到豁出性命的一次“碰瓷”，居然正好碰到了熟人身上！ 不幸中的萬幸。 “不客氣，我也很慶幸沒有背上一條人命。”許盛廷確認她已經退燒後，便讓醫生離開了，自己則順勢坐在了醫生的位置上。 “抱歉……”季靈希羞愧垂眼，“我不得不那樣。” 她尷尬的雙手絞著衣角，卻突然意識到自己身上的衣服已經換了。 也是，渾身溼乎乎髒兮兮的，怎麼上床？ 可是誰給她換的？不會是…… “昨晚是讓保姆給你洗的澡，換了衣服。”許盛廷見她呆呆地盯著衣服出神，臉還越來越紅，就猜到了她在想什麼。 “謝、謝謝。”被看穿心裡所想，季靈希更羞恥了。 好在許盛廷沒再繼續計較，而是突然提起另一件事：“你是不打算回醫院了嗎？” “短時間內我可能確實回不去了。”她實話實說。 醫院的工作需要花費大量時間和全部精力，但工資對於現在的她來說卻是杯水車薪，再加上父親的冤屈還未洗刷，季靈希不能把時間全部交代在那裡。 許盛廷的表情更冷了，“那你的病人怎麼辦？半途而廢，季醫生未免太不負責。” 什麼病人，他分明就是在說他自己！ 季靈希低下頭，“如果許先生需要催眠的話，可以隨時聯繫我，能來我一定來。” 也算是報答他這次的救命之恩了。 “是嗎？可你的電話打不通，消息也一直未讀。” 季靈希一愣，想起了什麼，尷尬道：“抱歉，我的手機不久前壞了……”被那群追債的砸了，還沒來得及買新的。 許盛廷皺了皺眉，顯然也想到了現下季靈希的狼狽，他沒有多問，只是叫了人進來吩咐了什麼，很快那人出去又進來，手裡多了一部手機。 許盛廷把手機交給季靈希，“以後用這個聯繫。” “啊？”怎麼能平白無故拿人家東西，季靈希第一反應是拒絕。 卻被許盛廷制止，“先別急著拒絕，我還有一份合約要和你商議。” “什麼合約？” “首先，我願意每月支付你五十萬。” 什麼？ 季靈希睜大眼睛看他，一臉震驚。 隨即她意識到什麼，驀地扯過被子將自己裹緊，只露出一雙警惕的眼睛。 悶悶的聲音隔著棉被傳來：“許先生，我不賣身的。” 看著他正派的眉眼和楚楚的衣冠，季靈希心道，沒想到也只是個人模狗樣的男人。 許盛廷沉默了會兒，突然莫名笑了下，“是嗎？加錢也不可以嗎，只需要每晚……” 伴隨著他越來越露骨的發言，季靈希炸毛一般，“當然不可以！” “只需要每晚給我催眠。”男人徐徐補充完整。 季靈希僵住。 “季醫生想到哪裡去了？”許盛廷看著她羞恥的眼，語氣揶揄，“我只是想聘請你做我的私人醫生而已，畢竟你是這個世界上唯一能讓我睡著的人。” 簽合同的時候，季靈希的臉還因為尷尬發著紅。 但同時她也感到難以置信，許先生居然真的開了月薪五十萬聘請她做私人醫生，而她的工作僅僅是每晚來給他催眠而已，這簡直是天上掉餡餅的事情。 諷刺的是，五十萬，正是那個劉總要買走她的價格。 “謝謝許先生。”季靈希抱著新手機，眼睛亮亮的看著他。 看著她紅撲撲的臉頰，男人眼神一暗，隨即移開目光，“嗯，晚上記得準時到，現在是休息還是離開，都隨意。” 季靈希立刻侷促道：“我很快就走。” “……嗯。” 季靈希出了門，才發現這裡是郊區的一棟私人別墅，私密性很強，和許先生這個人一樣神秘。 神秘到即使作為主治醫師為他治療了三個月，季靈希還是不清楚他的身份，只知道他忙碌且富有，應該是個成功人士。 她用新手機登入了自己的社交賬號，很快彈出一大堆未讀消息。 其中有個紅色的頭像格外醒目，是她的未婚夫許家榮，季家出事後，季靈希一直沒能聯繫上他。 現在他卻發來：靈希，明天下午三點，盛輝酒店1306見。 是昨天的消息。 第3章 一夜給你一萬 距離三點還有一個小時，季靈希看一下地圖，從這裡打車過去剛好來得及。 要去嗎？她心裡突突的跳。 昨天那個死肥豬男的話還歷歷在耳，他說許家早就退婚了。 可季靈希壓根沒收到通知，因此就算許家榮裝死了一個月，她還一直自欺欺人般抱著期待。 季家尚且衰亡，萬一許家也遇到了麻煩呢？或者是擔心受到牽連，等這陣子風頭過了，他就會聯繫她了呢？ 季家和許家在爺爺輩曾是世交，季靈希和許家榮更是自小就定下了娃娃親，兩人青梅竹馬，感情一度是甜蜜的，季靈希在心裡確實曾真心把他當做未來丈夫。 因此還懷揣著天真的期待和信任。 她最終叫了個網約車出發了。 無論退婚一事是真是假，她如今孤立無援，身負鉅債，即使是最後一點希望也要把握！ 網約車上，司機播放著時政廣播，主持人正在播報京市新任市長，是如何新官上任三把火，頒佈了不少利民新政策不說，還抓了一大批貪官汙吏，其中能源部部長季祥和，更是被舉報貪汙公款高達十個億，舉國震驚。 季靈希緊緊咬著唇，眼眶泛紅。 是新市長抓了父親。 說起來，之前她昏迷前，好像是隱隱約約聽到了什麼市長什麼媳婦之類的。 可當時深夜荒涼，周圍只有一輛車上有活人，大概高燒產生的錯覺吧。 如果能見到那位市長就好了，她真的很想瞭解清楚父親貪汙案件的始末，想知道那些所謂確鑿的證據都是從何而來。 她是父親的女兒，最清楚父親的人品，他是絕對做不出貪汙公款這種事情的！ 但以她現在的身份，想見那位市長一面，恐怕難如登天。 車停在了盛輝酒店門口，季靈希下車後，按照門牌號很快來到約定地點。 房門沒有關嚴，應該是許家榮已經到了，在等她。 季靈希沒多想，直接推開了門。 房間裡卻一片漆黑。 難道許家榮還沒到？ 季靈希略有疑惑，一邊往裡走一邊摸索開關。 突然她伸出的手腕被猛地攥住。 有人！ 季靈希猝然睜大眼，驚叫還沒來的及喊出口，就被捂住口鼻，強制拉進了一個光裸的懷抱。 “唔唔唔！”她拼命掙扎，卻完全敵不過對方的力氣，心裡驚懼一片。 “啪！”燈被打開了。 季靈希看清了來人，赫然是許家榮！ 對上她難以置信的眼，許家榮獰笑一聲，砰的把門踢上，緊接著把季靈希按在了牆上。 “靈希，我好想你。”許家榮緊貼著她身體，灼熱的鼻息噴灑在季靈希的脖子上，讓她渾身發毛。 她抗拒的推著他，“許家榮，你幹什麼？” “幹什麼？這不明擺著。”許家榮說著，居然開始撕扯她的衣服。 季靈希愕然，在驚怒之下，照著他裸露的肩膀狠狠咬了下去！ “嘶——”劇烈的痛感，讓許家榮下意識推開她，季靈希趁機逃離他的束縛，閃身抄起床頭櫃的檯燈，警惕的盯著他。 他們如今婚約是否名存實亡都不一定呢，季靈希怎麼可能跟他做！ 許家榮咬牙切齒，“季靈希！你淪落到如今這個地步，還不肯跟我睡？” “當初我圖你季家的助力，讓著你就算了，現如今你家都到這步田地了，你還有什麼可矜持的，扭扭捏捏裝假清高！” 季靈希被羞辱得渾身顫抖，瞪著他，“我只問你，許家是不是退婚了！？” 聞言，許家榮輕蔑一笑，看著季靈希的眼神更是不加掩飾的露骨，“不然呢？你以為你現在還配得上我？季靈希認清現實吧，跟了我，以後一夜給你一萬如何？” 季靈希氣紅了眼，握著檯燈的手都在發抖，“許家榮，我以前怎麼沒發現你這麼噁心？” “呵，我看你是敬酒不吃吃罰酒！”說完，他直接衝上來，季靈希舉起檯燈砸，卻被男人一把擋住，反手將她控制。 力量太懸殊了，季靈希顫抖著咬唇，目露恨光。 這時，許家榮褲兜裡的電話鈴響了。 他不以為然，電話自動掛斷，但緊接著又響起一個特殊的鈴聲。 許家榮動作一頓，咬牙切齒的空出手接通電話：“爺爺。” 對面威嚴的聲音傳出，季靈希離得太近也能聽見。 “家榮啊，你小叔回京市上任也有三個多月了，今晚辦家宴，你現在立刻回來。” 第4章 許家小叔 許老爺子是許家的真正掌權者，威嚴不言而喻，以至於許家榮如今箭在弦上，也不得不偃旗息鼓。 季靈希趁機掙脫開他的束縛，整理好身上的衣服。 見狀，許家榮冷笑：“這次先放過你，季靈希你好好想想吧，做我的女人才是你的最佳選擇，不然有第一個劉總就會有第二個，你以為次次都能逃得掉嗎？” 聽他提起劉總，季靈希難以置信，“你知道？” “當然，你可知你那好叔叔的拜帖遞給過多少人？如今圈子裡誰人不知，你季家大小姐是個五十萬就能買走的便宜貨？” 季靈希瞬間白了臉，眼底的恨意不加掩飾。 但許家榮卻不以為意，失去了季祥和庇護的季靈希就是一隻弱小的兔子，人人都能踩一腳，一隻兔子能有什麼反抗能力呢？ “季靈希，想清楚了隨時聯繫我。” 許家榮晃了晃手機，勢在必得的看了她一眼，轉身離開。 季靈希死死盯著他，在男人轉身之際，突然暴起舉著手中檯燈狠狠砸了下去！ 一聲巨響，紅漿自許家榮頭頂流下，劃過他猝然瞪大的雙眼，落到地面上。 男人抽搐著倒地。 季靈希後知後覺，顫抖著走到他身邊，蹲下身試探鼻息。 還活著。 松了口氣，季靈希站起身，居高臨下看了他兩秒，又不解氣地往那兩腿之間來了一腳。 … 許家。 京市作為H國首都，無數豪門世家紮根於此，其中許家是當之無愧的豪門之首，因此這一年一度的家宴，也舉辦得極其鋪張奢華。 一輛黑色紅旗L9停在了大門口，管家連忙來幫忙拉開車門，男人伸出長腿下車。 “二爺回來了，老爺在屋裡呢，現下除了家榮少爺，其他人也都到了。” 許盛廷聞言，朝他點點頭，徑直往屋裡走。 然而剛靠近主屋，裡面的吵鬧聲就傳了出來。 是他父親，許家家主的聲音，“那混賬東西，婚都退了還非要去招惹人家，還鬧到局子裡去了，簡直丟盡我許家顏面！” “爸，也不能怪我們家榮啊，傳信人說他腦袋都被打破了，分明是受害者！我看是那姓季的，家裡出事想要抓著我們許家不放，糾纏家榮呢！” 許盛廷站在門口沒進去，皺眉問：“怎麼回事？” 老管家尷尬道：“聽說是家榮少爺被他前未婚妻砸破了腦袋，人家姑娘打了120，結果救護車沒到，少爺自己醒了，拉著那姑娘非要報警，現在人被困在局子裡呢。” “他既然是受害者，又為什麼會被扣在警局。” “因為那姑娘跟警察說他試圖侵犯她……” 許盛廷冷笑，隨即推門而入。 與此同時，他大哥許源，估計也是覺得家宴鬧出這事實在丟人，拉著正據理力爭的妻子，勸道：“你別說了，現在當務之急是把家榮接回來。” 他大嫂紅著眼：“警察不肯放人我怎麼接！” “我去接。”冰冷的聲音打斷他們。 “盛廷？”許源尷尬笑道，“你來了，也是，你如今是市長，在警局那邊的面子自然比我們好用。” 許盛廷不置可否，神情冷淡的跟主位上的老爺子打了個招呼。 警局，季靈希坐在和許家榮一欄杆之隔的房間裡，冷眼看著他發瘋。 對此警察也頭疼，他們又何嘗想得罪許家，季靈希雖然控訴許家榮侵犯未遂，但到底拿不出實質的證據，本來教育教育就可以放人。 但許家榮一個嬌生慣養的大少爺，還是第一次被人開瓢，哪裡咽的下這口氣？ 非要強留在這裡死纏爛打，要季靈希坐牢，不然就賠償他五百萬。 五百萬？就憑他頭頂連輕傷都算不上的口子？這不搞笑嘛。 況且罪名雖無法成立，但人家姑娘身上的淤青和破碎的衣服是實打實的，砸他完全是合法自保，他再鬧也沒用啊。 警局外傳來動靜，有人小跑進來，“隊長，許家來人了。” “誰來了？” “好像是許家二爺。” 警長唰得起身，“還不快請進來！” 季靈希聞言抿緊了唇，神態防備。 許家二爺，那不就是許家榮的小叔？肯定是來撈他的。 門被推開，男人高大的身影出現在門口，季靈希警惕地望過去，卻看到了一張意料之外的熟悉的臉。 她人傻了。 怎麼是許盛廷？ ...... 接下來會發生什麼？ 這裡放的章節有限，點選下方按鈕安裝App，繼續閱讀更多精彩章節 （打開應用程式時會自動跳到該書） &5&		Love reading - A		85	https://www.facebook.com/61568188880222/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656842	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691952	1748420570		2174																										fbweb.litradnovie.com	Learn more			IMAGE	Читать следующую главу👉		https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/12024418-fb_contact-ruj57_2-0510-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=238502339210583&rawadid=120214121789120476			4.926629172649E+14	Hello reading-M	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470224088_895572115683800_5267515785176946642_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=u-7AskSTtGsQ7kNvgH_Ue2M&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYC9BkKtKGixMVooIFVFwnDxPWkCw8qVyZEp4Gi4-zFZhg&oe=677A7624	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"«Из-за измены он развелся с ней. Она оставила фразу: «Ты пожалеешь об этом». 4 года спустя он увидел ее по телевизору и представил как 100 лучших женщин-генеральных директоров и мать-одиночку тройняшек. Лица ее троих детей точь-в-точь как у его ... ===== Глава 1 Разлука укрепляет чувства Из ванной доносился шум воды. Регина и Марат были тайно женаты в течение двух лет. Мужчина был её начальником на работе, генеральным директором Шестаков Групп. Их роман закрутился очень быстро. Регина устроилась на работу в компанию, а их с Маратом происходит первый интимный контакт в ночь после вечеринки. Пара подписала брачный договор, решив скрыть этот брак от общественности, поскольку их союз мог быть расторгнут в любой момент. Да, этот поступок кажется неразумным, однако на тот момент Регина считала себя настоящей счастливицей. Никогда она не могла и подумать о том, что когда-нибудь выйдет замуж за человека, в которого была влюблена восемь лет. На предложение Марата она согласилась даже не раздумывая. После свадьбы мужчина был очень занят – большую часть времени он проводил за работой. Регине хотела, чтобы он больше оставался с ней дома, однако она была уверена в своём муже, поскольку за последние несколько лет о нём не прошло ни единого слуха о романе с женщинами. Если не брать в учёт его некоторое безразличие, Марат был идеальным мужем. Увидев результат теста на беременность, Регина испытала смешанные чувства. В конце концов она решилась сказать мужу правду. Ещё ей хотелось рассказать ему, что два года назад они встретились не впервые, и что до этого она любила его много лет. Вода в ванной наконец-то затихла. Как только Марат вышел, зазвонил его телефон. Мужчина вышел на балкон с одним лишь банным полотенцем на бёдрах и ответил на звонок. Регина взглянула на часы – полночь. Она пребывала в смятении. Кто мог позвонить Марату в столь поздний час? Мужчина провёл на балконе несколько минут, а затем вернулся в комнату и снял полотенце. Фигура Марата была впечатляющей. На его животе красовались кубики, ноги были длинными, а плечи крепкими и мускулистыми. Оторвать от этого мужчины взгляд было невозможно! Регина видела его обнажённым не впервые, но краснела каждый раз, а её сердце начинало колотиться в бешеном темпе. Марат, не обращая внимания на блуждающий взгляд Регины, взял с кровати рубашку и брюки от костюма. Он оделся и тонкими пальцами завязал галстук. Его красивое лицо с чёткими очертаниями придавало его ауре властность. Однако сейчас мужчине пора было идти. «Не жди меня. Спокойной ночи», – сказал он. Что? Куда он собрался в такой час? Регина крепче сжала тест на беременность, разочарованно глядя на мужа. Её сердце заполнила печаль. Пораздумав, она осторожно пробормотала: «Но ведь уже так поздно...» Пальцы Марата замерли на галстуке. Со слабой улыбкой он и ущипнул девушку за мочку уха: «Веди себя хорошо, ладно? У меня появились дела. Не жди». С этими словами мужчина направился к двери. «Марат?» Девушка быстро побежала и догнала его. Марат обернулся и серьёзно посмотрел на неё. «В чём дело?» Его тон был холодным. Ледяное облако нависло над парой, пока они смотрели друг на друга. Расстроенная, Регина тихо спросила: «Я хотела навестить бабушку завтра. Ты можешь поехать со мной?» Хрупкая и больная бабушка всегда была рада приезду внучки. Регина хотела познакомить её с Маратом, чтобы заверить, что они счастливы в браке. «Давай решим завтра, ладно?» Так и не дав ответа, Марат поспешно ушёл. Разные мысли крутились в голове девушки, когда она приняла душ и вернулась в постель. Она долго не могла заснуть. На её телефон пришло несколько уведомлений из некоторых интернет-блогов. В новости говорилось: «Знаменитая дизайнер Елена Фадеева была замечена в аэропорту с загадочным парнем». На Елене была гламурная шляпа. Фигура мужчины была расплывчатой, но даже по очертаниям стало ясно, что тот был не промах. Регина увеличила изображение. В следующую секунду её сердце упало в пятки. Мужчиной на фотографии оказался Марат! Значит, он отменил дневную встречу только ради того, чтобы забрать из аэропорта свою бывшую девушку? Разволновавшись, Регина почувствовала боль в животе. Её руки задрожали. Словно на автомате она набрала номер Марата. Звук гудков привёл её в чувство. Когда девушка собиралась повесить трубку, линия соединилась, и на другом конце послышалось: «Алло!» Это был особенно нежный женский голос. Регина замерла, а затем быстро отбросила телефон. Внезапно она почувствовала позыв тошноты. К её горлу подступила желчь. Прикрыв рот, она побежала в ванную, и её вырвало в унитаз. На следующее утро Регина пришла на работу вовремя. Когда они поженились, Марат пытался уговорить её уволиться. Однако девушка упрямо настаивала на том, чтобы зарабатывать собственные деньги. Мужчина не стал возражать, но попросил её работать его помощницей, которая могла взять на себя часть обязанностей. Главному помощнику, Матвею Анисимову, было поручено заниматься основными делами Марата. Он был единственным сотрудником компании, знавшим о браке Марата и Регины. В это время один из коллег Регины вручил ей документ и приказал отнести его в офис Марата. Прошлым вечером Марат так и не вернулся домой. Всю ночь она думала о женщине, которая ответила на звонок. Неужели Марат провёл ночь с ней? Девушка старалась сохранять спокойствие. Она рассудила – что бы ни случилось, она заслужила брак с мужчиной, которого жаждала долгие годы. Её страдания не могли быть напрасными, ведь так? Она нажала кнопку лифта и поднялась в кабинет генерального директора. Прежде чем выйти из лифта, Регина пригладила волосы, чтобы убедиться, что хорошо выглядит. Она пришла в офис и заметила, что дверь была приоткрыта. Раздался мужской голос, и девушка мгновенно остановилась. «Хорош тебе, мужик! У тебя вообще есть чувства к Регине?» Голос принадлежал Давиду Титову, другу детства Марата. «Что ты имеешь в виду?» – холодным тоном спросил Марат. «Ты точно знаешь, что я имею в виду! – Давид нетерпеливо щёлкнул языком. – Мне кажется, что Регина хорошая девушка. Разве она не в твоём вкусе?» «Ты хочешь, чтобы я передал её тебе?» – небрежно спросил Марат. «Ладно, забудь об этом!» Презрительный смех Давида прозвучал в ушах Регины особенно резко. О ней говорили, как о предмете. Девушка глубоко вздохнула и крепче сжала документ. Вскоре голос Давида послышался снова. «Кстати, утром я видел новости о загадочном парне Лены. Это ведь был ты, да?» «Да». «Так-так-так! Значит, эта женщина до сих пор держит тебя рядом. А ты только рад доставить ей удовольствие!» Давид вздохнул и продолжил дразнить Марата. «Вы провели ночь вместе. Как говорится, разлука укрепляет чувства. Скажи, вы...» Их разговор был подобен грому, грянувшему над головой Регины. Её лицо побледнело, а конечности онемели. Елена и Марат провели ночь вместе! Разлука укрепляет чувства! Каждое из этих слов вонзало нож в её сердце. Эти фразы эхом отдавались в её голове. Регина вдруг почувствовала головокружение, а её зрение стало размытым. Она схватилась за стену и сделала шаг назад. Внезапно дверь открылась изнутри. «Регина?» Глава 2 Невзаимная любовь Дверь открыл Давид, который собирался уходить. Регина сложила руки, повернулась к нему и кивнула. «Доброе утро, господин Титов!» Не дожидаясь ответа на приветствие, девушка прошла мимо Давида и вошла в кабинет с документом. Марат сидел за большим роскошным столом. В дорогом костюме и чёрном галстуке он выглядел особенно красиво. Регина заметила, что это был не тот костюм, в котором он уходил из дома. Где и как он успел переодеться? Опустив глаза, она проглотила этот вопрос и вместо этого сказала: «Господин Шестаков, это из отдела маркетинга. Пожалуйста, подпишите». Марат молчал, подписав документ не глядя. Регина вышла за дверь, как только мужчина вернул ей бумагу. Давид всё ещё стоял на пороге. И только когда она скрылась из виду, он повернулся к Марату и воскликнул: «Дерьмо! Думаешь, она услышала?» Взгляд мужчины был равнодушным. Казалось, он не обращал внимания на слова друга. Для Марата Регина всегда была послушной и прилежной девушкой. Её строгое послушание – это всё, что требовал от неё Марат в обмен на хорошее обращение. В лифте. Регина закусила губу и пыталась сдержать слёзы, но тщетно. Она думала, что двух лет будет достаточно, чтобы Марат понял, как сильно Регина любит его, и ответил ей взаимностью. Однако теперь это казалось лишь несбыточной мечтой. Девушка поняла, что всегда будет играть второстепенную роль в жизни мужа, в отличие от Елены, его первой любви. Регина вытерла слезы, когда лифт остановился. Она быстро привела себя в порядок, хотя её лицо осталось заметно бледным. Она потащилась в комнату отдыха, чтобы заварить себе чашечку чая. Внутри болтали несколько сотрудников. «Ребята, вы слышали? Елена Фадеева вернулась». «А кто это?» «Боже! Ты её не знаешь? Она наследница Фадеев Групп и дизайнер мирового уровня. И самое главное – она единственная девушка, которую господин Шестаков демонстрировал публично. Она его первая любовь!» «Но почему её возвращение так важно? Разве господин Шестаков не встречается с Региной?» «Регина? Она наверняка его очередная игрушка. Он не подтверждал, что встречается с ней. Но это и неудивительно. Посмотрите на неё – она даже не красотка, но ведёт себя так, будто уже стала его женой. Как глупо и наивно!» Стоя у двери и подслушивая, Регина насмешливо улыбалась. Оказалось, что правду поняли все, кроме неё самой. Её любовь была невзаимной. «Ха-ха, госпожа Шестакова наконец узнала всю правду?» Внезапно послышался насмешливый голос позади. Регина обернулась и увидела Алину Герасимову, двоюродную сестру Марата, которая всегда презирала её. Должно быть, она слышала сплетни коллег. Меньше всего Регине хотелось ругаться с Алиной на людях. Она повернулась, чтобы уйти, как вдруг Алина преградила ей путь. С чашкой кофе в руке она саркастически заявила: «Елена вернулась. Думаешь, Марату будет не всё равно на тебя?» Регина промолчала. Однако Алина продолжила насмешки. «Я слышал, что ты неплохо справляешься по ночам. Как насчет того, чтобы познакомить тебя с парой мужчин? Ты им действительно можешь понадобиться.» Сжав кулаки, Регина холодно ответила: «Госпожа Герасимова, мы на рабочем месте, а не в борделе. Я уверена – вы знаете, как до него добраться». «Ты...» Регина тонко намекнула на аморальное мышление Алины, и та быстро изменилась в лице. В следующую секунду Алина подняла руку и вылила чашку горячего кофе на Регину. Регина и представить не могла, что Алина окажется настолько безумной. Она схватила лицо руками, защищаясь от кипятка. В мгновение ока кофе вылился на её руку, и кожа девушки тут же покраснела. «Ай! – Регина нахмурилась от боли. – Ты что творишь? С ума сошла?» На обеденном перерыве многие сотрудники наблюдали за драмой. Алина злорадствовала, когда толпа зрителей начала увеличиваться. Скрестив руки на груди, она спросила Регину: «И откуда такая самоуверенность? Ты серьёзно думаешь, что окружающие не знают, что ты мерзкая сирота? Ты ошибка...» Внезапно послышался хлопок. Горячая пощёчина тут же заставила Алину замолчать. Она в шоке распахнула глаза. Неужели тихая и покладистая Регина дала ей пощёчину? Алина прижала руку к щеке, молча от шока. Спустя пару секунд она пробормотала: «Ты... Ты ударила меня? как ты смеешь!» Регина поймала её взгляд и ответила: «Да, я ударила тебя! Кажется, тебя не учили элементарной вежливости!» Действительно, девушка потеряла родителей ещё в детстве. Однако это не означало, что кто-либо мог высмеивать её за это. Алина глубоко нахмурилась. Будучи сестрой Марата Шестакова, она привыкла к уважению и лести в свой адрес. Ситуация с пощёчиной произошла впервые в её жизни. Девушка бросилась на Регину, как разъярённый бык, высоко подняв руку, чтобы ответить пощёчиной. На этот раз Регина была полностью готова к тому, что произойдёт. Она так крепко схватила запястье соперницы, что та не могла и пошевелиться. Поскольку Алина была ниже Регины, у последней было преимущество. Алина в ярости выругалась: «Не смей трогать меня своими грязными ручонками! Ты кем себя возомнила?! Ты очередная игрушка Марата! » Резкие слова привлекли в комнату отдыха ещё больше людей. «Довольно!» Неожиданно послышался низкий мужской голос позади. Марат заметил суматоху, выходя из своего офиса. В комнате воцарилась гробовая тишина. «Марат?» Кровь в жилах Алины застыла. Девушка всегда боялась брата. Мама много раз предупреждала её не провоцировать его. Недолго думая Алина заняла позицию жертвы – она схватилась за щёку и громко зарыдала. «Марат, посмотри на меня! Она ударила меня!» Солнечный свет снаружи падал на точёное лицо мужчины. Успокоившись, Регина опустила голову и посмотрела на руку, ошпаренную кофе. Их взгляды встретились в воздухе. Глубоконахмурившись, Марат посмотрел на Регину и задал вопрос: «Ты забыла правила компании?» Из-за его ледяного взгляда девушка неосознанно задержала дыхание. Она не могла поверить своим ушам. В этот момент никто не осмеливался издать ни звука. Регина молчала, стоя неподвижно. Когда она устраивалась на работу, Марат ясно дал понять, что Шестаков Групп – не то место, где можно бездельничать или допускать ошибки. Регина понимала его позицию. Однако в этот момент она отчаянно хотела узнать, слышал ли Марат резкие слова Алины или просто притворялся. Действительно ли он видел в Регине очередную игрушку? До смерти напуганная яростью Марата, толпа вскоре разошлась. Несколько сотрудников осмелились подглядывать издалека, не желая упускать представление. Холодный взгляд Марата заставил Регину задрожать. Глядя на Алину, девушка сжала ладони, чтобы подавить эмоции. «Мне очень жаль, госпожа Герасимова. Я поступила неправильно, когда ударила вас». Глядя на Регину, Алина самодовольно задрала подбородок. «Пф! Не думай, что тебя спустят с крючка за одни лишь извинения. Я не...» «В таком случае, беру свои извинения обратно. А теперь, если вы меня извините, – Регина прошла мимо Марата, не удостоив его и взглядом. Лицо Алины лишилось всяких красок. Никогда в жизни она не подвергалась такому унижению. Она всегда была хулиганом, а не жертвой! Алина была готова раскромсать Регину на куски! Указав на неё пальцем, девушка крикнула: «Марат, ты слышал? Она дала мне пощёчину и продолжает разговаривать в таком тоне! Поставь её на место. Иначе я изобью её так, что она будет молить о пощаде!» Выражение лица Марата, который смотрел в спину Регины, было нечитаемым. «Достаточно!»‎ – холодно воскликнул он, подняв руку. Как человек, который жил и дышал драмой и жестокостью, Алина предвкушала, что Марат проучит наглую девушку. Она была уверена, что он ни во что не ставит Регину. Алина стиснула зубы и злобно заявила: «В следующий раз я попрошу кого-нибудь преподать этой женщине урок.» «Алина!»‎ Тон и прищур Марата до жути напугали девушку. Алина вздрогнула. С мрачным выражением лица Марат объяснил: «Я говорю это в первый и последний раз. Забудь о том, что здесь произошло. Оставь Регину в покое». Алина почувствовала ком в горле. Все порочные планы, которые она строила против Регины, разрушились в одно мгновение. Она пробормотала: «Хорошо... Хорошо, понятно...»‎ Марат бросил на неё холодный взгляд и заговорил с Матвеем. «С сегодняшнего дня сюда не впускают посторонних людей». Не уловив смысла, Алина польстила Марату: «Хорошая идея. Это топ-компания. Не каждый имеет доступ сюда». Матвей кивнул Марату, а затем подошёл к Алине и указал на выход. «Госпожа Герасимова, пожалуйста, сюда». Только в этот момент Алина осознала, что она и есть тот ненужный человек, которого имел в виду Марат. Она попыталась заговорить с ним, но Матвей преградил ей путь. После этого охранники вывели её. Они не проявили к ней ни капли пощады, и её попытки вырваться оказались бесполезными. Тем временем Регина вернулась в офис, чтобы переодеться. Её сердце наполнилось печалью, когда она подумала о последнем взгляде Марата. Рабочий день подошёл к концу. Регина взяла сумку и направилась к выходу, как вдруг её остановил Матвей. Недолго думая, Регина отказалась от поездки. Раньше она была слепа, но теперь видела ситуацию насквозь. В глазах Марата она была просто никем. Почему он согласился навестить её бабушку, если Регина была ему безразлична? Прибыв в больницу, Регина увидела медсестру, которая собиралась кормить её бабушку ужином, и взяла эту задачу на себя. Всю жизнь её бабушка жила в деревне тихо и мирно. Всё изменилось в прошлом месяце, когда плановое медицинское обследование показало, что у неё были проблемы с поджелудочной железой. Регина настояла на том, чтобы привезти бабушку в город для качественного лечения. Бабушка не знала о браке внучки. Регина планировала устроить ей сюрприз. Однако, как оказалось, в этом уже не было необходимости. Девушка подождала, пока бабушка уснёт, прежде чем уйти. Она вышла из больницы и вызвала такси. Вдалеке, ко входу в больницу подъехал роскошный чёрный автомобиль. Глаза Регины загорелись – она узнала машину Марата. Неужели он приехал за ней? В этот момент Регина позабыла всю боль, которую испытывала всего пару часов назад. Дверь открылась, и на улицу вышел Марат. Регина поспешила к нему с наполняющимся радостью сердцем. Однако в следующую секунду она замерла, не в силах пошевелиться. Марат подошёл к задней двери и взял на руки девушку. На его лице отражались тревога и сострадание. Улыбка исчезла с лица Регины, когда её сердце обливалось кровью. Неужели её догадки были ошибочными? Заботился ли о ней Марат, вопреки слухам? ... ==== В сердце Регины был только один мужчина, и это был Марат. На второй год брака с ним она забеременела. Радость Регины не знала границ. Но не успела она сообщить новость мужу, как он подал документы на развод, потому что хотел жениться на своей первой любви. После этого она решила наладить свою жизнь. Спустя годы её имя стало известно повсюду. Марату стало крайне не по себе. По какой-то причине он начал скучать по ней. Его сердце болело, когда он видел её улыбающейся с другим мужчиной. Что будет дальше? Количество глав здесь ограничено, нажмите на кнопку ниже, чтобы установить приложение и продолжить чтение более захватывающих глав! (Вы будете автоматически перенаправлены на книгу, когда откроете приложение) &14&		Hello reading-M		565	https://www.facebook.com/61569889464917/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656644	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 12:40 PM	1735691948	1749404404		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656793	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 12:50 PM	1735691951	1749405018		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656746	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 12:50 PM	1735691950	1749405056		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656870	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 12:58 PM	1735691952	1749405516		2174																										fbweb.kifflire.com	Learn more			IMAGE	Cliquez ici pour en savoir plus👉👉		https://fbweb.kifflire.com/20896410-fb_contact-frp83_2-241203-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=3889292031299494&rawadid=120213961027170239			4.8124148173477E+14	Loving reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469310088_1104065644579998_3451142557724320876_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Bca51p3qV9sQ7kNvgHaEiIL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYDKCgLPvtXxNwRwJ0P6EZO2GviYrgr_XeHXetlLlvAOvQ&oe=677A6CC0	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		« Divorçons. » Colton Stevens s'est approché avec impatience. Allison Clarke luttait pour garder son sang-froid. « C'est notre troisième anniversaire de mariage aujourd'hui. » Elle avait passé des heures à préparer une table couverte des plats préférés. Colton s'est moqué. « Quatre millions devraient te permettre de vivre toute ta vie. Melany est revenue. Elle est orgueilleuse, et elle ne supportera pas toute cette situation.» Melany était celle qui tenait son cœur, elle l'avait quitté trois ans plus tôt, rompant leurs fiançailles et partant à l'étranger. Pourtant, aujourd'hui, sur un simple mot de sa part, Colton a facilement accepté son retour et a choisi de divorcer d'Allison sans la moindre hésitation. Le cœur d'Allison s'est effondré. Elle était autrefois une parfumeuse de génie, une pirate informatique de renom. Pendant trois ans, elle avait enterré toute trace de son génie, se transformant en parfaite femme au foyer. Récemment, elle avait obtenu une opportunité rare avec Cobweb, le réseau de renseignement le plus insaisissable, dans l'espoir d'aider la famille Stevens à conclure une affaire cruciale. Pourtant, maintenant, la piqûre de la trahison l'a profondément marquée. Il a jeté un coup d'œil à sa montre, comptant manifestement le temps. « Tu ferais mieux de te préparer et d'engager un avocat... » Il n'a pas pu terminer. « Je sais ce qu'il faut faire », l'a interrompu Allison, la voix teintée de dégoût. Elle s'est replongée dans un souvenir d'enfance où elle était aveugle et en grand danger. Un garçon l'avait portée sur son dos pendant trois jours et trois nuits, lui sauvant la vie. Ce garçon avait dit qu'il s'appelait Colton Stevens. À présent, trois ans après leur mariage, ce même garçon l'obligeait à partir. Le temps transformait parfois les gens en étrangers. « Je vais y aller », a dit Allison en revenant à l'instant présent. Elle s'est levée et a regardé Colton avec fermeté et détachement. « À partir de maintenant, nous ne nous devons plus rien l'un à l'autre. » &6&		Loving reading		761	https://www.facebook.com/61567813351718/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656580	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691947	1748420570		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYA269s4quSOiqVLx8eBkMe3YBoyyG45zlXIxHq2rCC0SQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656569	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 10:57 PM	1735691946	1749009476		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656398	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 10:58 PM	1735691943	1749009494		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656425	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 10:58 PM	1735691943	1749009499		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656410	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 10:58 PM	1735691943	1749009502		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=G6a7vY4vM-AQ7kNvgHlTO55&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYDW0R4r_9abe9DrLQUjc-7EP-6clQckT7vrAmenriWjaQ&oe=677A74AC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656549	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 10:58 PM	1735691946	1749009528		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656521	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 10:58 PM	1735691945	1749009538		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=KNfoxxyfdQYQ7kNvgEY98gl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYAIDhaRyteVODC3YHFetfKo0xjGV2NLeNkXI-SFyLGuqw&oe=677A603D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656453	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 10:59 PM	1735691944	1749009550		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656589	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:02 PM	1735691947	1749009723		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656778	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 5:47 AM	1735691950	1749379655		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656782	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:53 AM	1735691950	1749369186		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656918	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 9:51 AM	1735691954	1749826317		2174																														MULTI_IMAGES						1.318837339486E+14	Western Motors Los Banos	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471950167_426177653792806_1622885988979127212_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-CFS8-1HEaQQ7kNvgGslww1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYBA5ENNgmIQPaoMbVq-A5iphvYTAfdehdVzA712r7omiw&oe=677A4E04	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		✨ Ring in the New Year with Western Motors! 🎉 🚘 Whether you're looking to start 2025 in style with a new ride or need reliable wheels for your resolutions, we’ve got you covered! 🎆 Don’t miss our New Year’s Event with unbeatable deals on a wide selection of vehicles. Let’s make your 2025 unforgettable! 📍 Visit us at Western Motors and drive into the New Year with confidence and style.		Western Motors Los Banos		4091	https://www.facebook.com/WesternMotorsII/	0										View Edit Delete
2656961	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:38 AM	1735691956	1749368322		2174																											Contact us			IMAGE	garage door 9x6'6 C.H.I model 5250		https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/1105865224571823/			1.0201090814916E+15	Juan Campos		REGULAR_PAGE	1					0		garage door 9x6'6 C.H.I model 5250 - $1.00 New garage door available, different sizes and styles message me for more details, Free estimates..404-750-3409 Facebook Marketplace		Juan Campos		3	https://www.facebook.com/Juan-Campos-1020109081491604/	0		CONTACT_US								View Edit Delete
2656562	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 4:25 PM	1735691946	1749417907		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656586	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 2:01 AM	1735691947	1749193318		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656515	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:59 PM	1735691945	1749416342		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656646	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:59 PM	1735691948	1749416348		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vVbgWEWv_80Q7kNvgE5MWAN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYBCBtKDcpID1uHaZxjCimRCGhLAeHRqh2UQBQlJSrdp2A&oe=677A7152	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656896	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 4:01 PM	1735691953	1749416472		2174																											Contact us			IMAGE	Beautiful Glass Colorful Perfume Bottles at Auction		https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/1898664420541423/			1.037364343643E+14	Leah Abigail Napoleon		REGULAR_PAGE	1					1		Beautiful Glass Colorful Perfume Bottles at Auction - $5.00 First Auction of the Year Antique and Collectibles Saturday January 4th 2850 O'Neal Ave Pueblo Doors Open at 8 am Auction Starts at 9 am Cabinets at 10 am Tonkas at Noon Back Area Goes at 2 Preview Friday Jan 3rd 12-4 Everything goes at No Reserve Huge 1st Auction of the Year…Don’t Miss It!!! Antique and Collectible Auction Primitives, over 100 pre-loved toys from the 1970’s including Tonka toys, games, Big Jim, G.I. Joes, Evil Knievel, Kachina dolls, salt and pepper shakers, musical instruments, Roseville, Quality Southwest pottery, painted gourds, diecast cars, vintage wine, precious moments, hand blown art glass, perfume bottles, outdoor cement decor, taxidermy, trains, barrister bookcases, mission furniture, merry-go-round horse, Asian furniture, bedroom furniture, trunks, dolls, stained glass, vintage beer cans, big Barbies, K Jacobson art, vintage art, original Atari, fiestaware, elephant phone, vintage assorted clocks, amethyst glass collection, vintage kitchen pottery bowls, NSYNC collectible puppets, clay poker chips, vintage Legos, vintage typewriters, cast iron, collectible snoopy peanuts, vintage sports magazines, chess sets, assorted planers and hand tools, cast iron mammy, assorted, vintage sewing machines, brass torches, and railroad oiler funnels, vintage Star Wars, antique bottles, vintage fast food toys, vintage playing cards, vintage sports cards most in sleeves, sterling silverflatware set, church keys, swavorski crystals, and much more. Facebook Marketplace		Leah Abigail Napoleon		0	https://www.facebook.com/Leah-Abigail-Napoleon-103736434364297/	0		CONTACT_US								View Edit Delete
2656650	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 4:08 PM	1735691948	1749416939		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vVbgWEWv_80Q7kNvgE5MWAN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYBCBtKDcpID1uHaZxjCimRCGhLAeHRqh2UQBQlJSrdp2A&oe=677A7152	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656795	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 4:36 PM	1735691951	1749418561		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656597	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 12:28 PM	1735691947	1749835739		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656409	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:06 PM	1735691943	1749009979		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=G6a7vY4vM-AQ7kNvgHlTO55&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYDW0R4r_9abe9DrLQUjc-7EP-6clQckT7vrAmenriWjaQ&oe=677A74AC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656495	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 4:51 PM	1735691945	1749419474		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656843	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 5:32 PM	1735691952	1749421960		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214135109300250			4.6358262017968E+14	Hello reading-A	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469527031_559667026826085_2662870046784652337_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=VOqVPK0KMQ8Q7kNvgE6jpNi&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAAmiLB0UchTpV_y1XZ67GnVF0ODedzfRXsHyhzTrYH9g&oe=677A4DF0	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-A		2	https://www.facebook.com/61570065204033/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656851	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 5:34 PM	1735691952	1749422098		2174																										fbweb.kifflire.com	Learn More			DCO	Cliquez ici pour en savoir plus👉👉		https://fbweb.kifflire.com/20896410-fb_contact-frp83_2-241203-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=3889292031299494&rawadid=120214034065280239			4.8124148173477E+14	Loving reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469126951_929831642041768_4946662884723292667_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NMO0DxF4RBcQ7kNvgGugZih&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYA38LqX40K49B7Igk-9pCz_HlRHLodgn6j3NRpeUYrOuw&oe=677A740A	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		« Divorçons. » Colton Stevens s'est approché avec impatience. Allison Clarke luttait pour garder son sang-froid. « C'est notre troisième anniversaire de mariage aujourd'hui. » Elle avait passé des heures à préparer une table couverte des plats préférés. Colton s'est moqué. « Quatre millions devraient te permettre de vivre toute ta vie. Melany est revenue. Elle est orgueilleuse, et elle ne supportera pas toute cette situation.» Melany était celle qui tenait son cœur, elle l'avait quitté trois ans plus tôt, rompant leurs fiançailles et partant à l'étranger. Pourtant, aujourd'hui, sur un simple mot de sa part, Colton a facilement accepté son retour et a choisi de divorcer d'Allison sans la moindre hésitation. Le cœur d'Allison s'est effondré. Elle était autrefois une parfumeuse de génie, une pirate informatique de renom. Pendant trois ans, elle avait enterré toute trace de son génie, se transformant en parfaite femme au foyer. Récemment, elle avait obtenu une opportunité rare avec Cobweb, le réseau de renseignement le plus insaisissable, dans l'espoir d'aider la famille Stevens à conclure une affaire cruciale. Pourtant, maintenant, la piqûre de la trahison l'a profondément marquée. Il a jeté un coup d'œil à sa montre, comptant manifestement le temps. « Tu ferais mieux de te préparer et d'engager un avocat... » Il n'a pas pu terminer. « Je sais ce qu'il faut faire », l'a interrompu Allison, la voix teintée de dégoût. Elle s'est replongée dans un souvenir d'enfance où elle était aveugle et en grand danger. Un garçon l'avait portée sur son dos pendant trois jours et trois nuits, lui sauvant la vie. Ce garçon avait dit qu'il s'appelait Colton Stevens. À présent, trois ans après leur mariage, ce même garçon l'obligeait à partir. Le temps transformait parfois les gens en étrangers. « Je vais y aller », a dit Allison en revenant à l'instant présent. Elle s'est levée et a regardé Colton avec fermeté et détachement. « À partir de maintenant, nous ne nous devons plus rien l'un à l'autre. » &6&		Loving reading		761	https://www.facebook.com/61567813351718/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656390	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 5:23 PM	1735691943	1749421405		2174																										wiieo.com	Shop now			IMAGE	Custom Photo Calendar Keyring	Personalized Photo Calendar Keyring	https://www.wiieo.com/SK122			1.0035103935615E+14	wiieo.com	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/406889549_716353013478845_7780886817685799122_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qhsrn_c2zZYQ7kNvgG0lQ1t&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYADw7QljNjIVPnHiyxziBa7t6eCs-ey4cgwMWoJg79xHQ&oe=677A6DCF	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💘 Personalized Photo Calendar Keyring 😍 buy now 🎁 https://www.wiieo.com/SK122 💘😍 The perfect gift for your friends or family		wiieo.com		170	https://www.facebook.com/wiieocom/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656437	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 5:25 PM	1735691944	1749421509		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656852	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 6:21 PM	1735691952	1749424876		2174																										fbweb.kifflire.com	Learn More			DCO	Cliquez ici pour en savoir plus👉👉		https://fbweb.kifflire.com/20896410-fb_contact-frp83_2-241203-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=3889292031299494&rawadid=120214034065280239			4.8124148173477E+14	Loving reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469126951_929831642041768_4946662884723292667_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NMO0DxF4RBcQ7kNvgGugZih&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYA38LqX40K49B7Igk-9pCz_HlRHLodgn6j3NRpeUYrOuw&oe=677A740A	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		« Divorçons. » Colton Stevens s'est approché avec impatience. Allison Clarke luttait pour garder son sang-froid. « C'est notre troisième anniversaire de mariage aujourd'hui. » Elle avait passé des heures à préparer une table couverte des plats préférés. Colton s'est moqué. « Quatre millions devraient te permettre de vivre toute ta vie. Melany est revenue. Elle est orgueilleuse, et elle ne supportera pas toute cette situation.» Melany était celle qui tenait son cœur, elle l'avait quitté trois ans plus tôt, rompant leurs fiançailles et partant à l'étranger. Pourtant, aujourd'hui, sur un simple mot de sa part, Colton a facilement accepté son retour et a choisi de divorcer d'Allison sans la moindre hésitation. Le cœur d'Allison s'est effondré. Elle était autrefois une parfumeuse de génie, une pirate informatique de renom. Pendant trois ans, elle avait enterré toute trace de son génie, se transformant en parfaite femme au foyer. Récemment, elle avait obtenu une opportunité rare avec Cobweb, le réseau de renseignement le plus insaisissable, dans l'espoir d'aider la famille Stevens à conclure une affaire cruciale. Pourtant, maintenant, la piqûre de la trahison l'a profondément marquée. Il a jeté un coup d'œil à sa montre, comptant manifestement le temps. « Tu ferais mieux de te préparer et d'engager un avocat... » Il n'a pas pu terminer. « Je sais ce qu'il faut faire », l'a interrompu Allison, la voix teintée de dégoût. Elle s'est replongée dans un souvenir d'enfance où elle était aveugle et en grand danger. Un garçon l'avait portée sur son dos pendant trois jours et trois nuits, lui sauvant la vie. Ce garçon avait dit qu'il s'appelait Colton Stevens. À présent, trois ans après leur mariage, ce même garçon l'obligeait à partir. Le temps transformait parfois les gens en étrangers. « Je vais y aller », a dit Allison en revenant à l'instant présent. Elle s'est levée et a regardé Colton avec fermeté et détachement. « À partir de maintenant, nous ne nous devons plus rien l'un à l'autre. » &6&		Loving reading		761	https://www.facebook.com/61567813351718/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656809	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 6:23 PM	1735691951	1749424988		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBghTC_-ZAyCm726ul_FwOaF4adxdq2NPTxCPjDeZ2PWg&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656887	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 7:46 PM	1735691953	1749430007		2174																										fbweb.lera.mobi	Learn more			VIDEO	Continuar lendo👉👉👉		https://fbweb.lera.mobi/12928409-fb_contact-pta220_2-241011-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=241242718481731&rawadid=120216855632460663			1.1921889460562E+14	Lera reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471365696_1275776193757611_9207795024051357197_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bs5OGi_WHaMQ7kNvgF_8XS4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYAlLAzcto9q_7-e2nRCon2tl_2g0vAjr0RRILmgzEfTIQ&oe=677A5D48	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Joelle Miller examinou com atenção o feed do Twitter de Rebecca Lloyd, estudando cada vídeo com um olhar atento. Ela descobriu que em ocasiões marcantes, como a véspera de Natal, o Dia dos Namorados e até mesmo seu aniversário, Rebecca estava com Adrian Miller, seu suposto marido. Para Adrian, ela não passava de uma mulher maligna que arruinou seu relacionamento com Rebecca... Ela observou em silêncio os braços entrelaçados deles, que provocaram inveja em muitos. Que casal perfeito! O pensamento golpeou Joelle como uma faca e, num instante, ela teve a sensação de que estava segurando vela. Agora, olhando para trás, Joelle percebeu o quão ingênua tinha sido. Que patético! "Quero o divórcio, Adrian!" &9&		Lera reading		3170	https://www.facebook.com/61550764321146/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656441	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 7:48 PM	1735691944	1749430083		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656563	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:14 AM	1735691946	1749366844		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656540	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:12 PM	1735691946	1749010337		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2656708	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 9:33 PM	1735691949	1749436391		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XhQmwr05aGcQ7kNvgHQbvMH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDXlm9YcMpbe8R-tXH93kTSsbfiJt11V_RhjVlufTPybw&oe=677A7488	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656559	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 9:33 PM	1735691946	1749436434		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656431	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 6:26 AM	1735691943	1749122772		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656429	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:08 PM	1735691943	1749010114		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656788	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 12:58 AM	1735691950	1749448735		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656452	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:13 PM	1735691944	1749010400		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656405	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:14 PM	1735691943	1749010500		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=G6a7vY4vM-AQ7kNvgHlTO55&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYDW0R4r_9abe9DrLQUjc-7EP-6clQckT7vrAmenriWjaQ&oe=677A74AC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656744	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 4:51 AM	1735691950	1749462689		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2656494	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 5:24 AM	1735691945	1749464643		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656804	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 5:29 AM	1735691951	1749464968		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656645	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 5:56 AM	1735691948	1749466604		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vVbgWEWv_80Q7kNvgE5MWAN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYBCBtKDcpID1uHaZxjCimRCGhLAeHRqh2UQBQlJSrdp2A&oe=677A7152	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656668	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 6:03 AM	1735691948	1749467001		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656679	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 8:13 AM	1735691948	1749474809		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656952	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 8:13 AM	1735691956	1749474834		2174																											Call now			IMAGE	Dirte Pi	Pi + Chicken Clean Ingredients All Organic + Non-GMO Avon Lake, Ohio				1.0301815537323E+14	Dirte Pi	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472188417_925972999680321_5414299433551764721_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ou49DoNaBbMQ7kNvgGSeOIz&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYCZKefeflhDWhhYN6w16P4J9cCznsHz-ReSvOA0gg-wsw&oe=677A73EA	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		BOGO NIGHT! Celebrate today with Dirte Pi. BUY 1 build your own pizza and GET 1 for 50% off! B.Y.O. Only! We have your game time and NYE Party Needs. We open at 11 and close at 9 today! New Street Taco Pizza Available Now! This is one Pizza you won't want to miss! ---------------- #nye #celebrate #newyear #2025 #avonlake #pizza #fff #fyp #rockyriver #bayvillage #crockerpark #delicious #PizzaIsLife #pizzaqueen #pizzaking #organic #scratchkitchen #Brickoven		Dirte Pi		1020	https://www.facebook.com/DirtePi/	0		CALL_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656781	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 8:42 AM	1735691950	1749476535		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656531	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:20 PM	1735691946	1749010830		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656404	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:20 PM	1735691943	1749010802		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=G6a7vY4vM-AQ7kNvgHlTO55&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYDW0R4r_9abe9DrLQUjc-7EP-6clQckT7vrAmenriWjaQ&oe=677A74AC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656942	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 9:17 AM	1735691955	1749478654		2174																											Call now			MULTI_IMAGES						1.0590874576967E+14	RGV Property Savers	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472003040_9470858112948549_2845931079754002276_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=W5iOGzWFpa8Q7kNvgHAiRwP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYDa-174_mv0MWMheKRPkKpixkUxqfYzLYu6znbk5W7SsA&oe=677A6C6E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		We have 2 properties for sale. 1. 104 E 16th St, San Juan, TX - $195,000 Living:1,196 | 4 Bedrooms 2 Bath | Bonus Room | 1 Car Garage 2. 403 Poblano Dr. Donna, TX - $209,999 Living:1,463 | 4 Bedrooms 2 Bath | Bonus Room | 1 Car Garage Private Lender is available: Martin 956-460-9562 20% Down 10% Interest 25 Year No prepayment penalty https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/104-E-16th-St-San-Juan-TX-78589/52822469_zpid/?utm_medium=referral https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/403-Poblano-Dr-Donna-TX-78537/69691722_zpid/?msockid=2dcca9e1db7d6bda33adbbe4df7d6512		RGV Property Savers		16	https://www.facebook.com/100090702784707/	0		CALL_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656860	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 12:17 PM	1735691952	1749489448		2174																										fbweb.cdreader.com	Learn more			VIDEO	閱讀下一章👉		https://fbweb.cdreader.com/130853449-fb_contact-ft-p103_2-c2-1128-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=809076924536970&rawadid=120215590408000134			4.7515149567892E+14	Love reading - A	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469121025_1938952113254271_2684819102489457822_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Pe1IFCx3oDgQ7kNvgEQ_iKd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYCuDzfd3oiS4bNT9zSvyEjAGgbBzE8wWHl4_4bmDJB9hg&oe=677A5644	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		她愛上拯救她的陌生男人，卻得知他竟然就是拿她父親貪污案做墊腳石上位的新任市長！血海深仇，她毅然離去，男人卻瘋了，滿城尋她求原諒！ ===== “季小姐，出來吧，你叔叔已經將你五十萬賣給我了，以後跟著我吃香喝辣，你什麼活也不用幹，只管敞開腿伺候就成。” 轟隆聲響起，暴雨傾盆而下，一道閃電劈開長夜照亮了男人肥肉橫生的猥瑣面孔，他半邊臉擠在門框上變了形，眼神卻不停往門縫裡瞄。 房間內，季靈希渾身發抖的死死抵著門。 “滾……滾啊！！”她崩潰大喊，“我有未婚夫，他不會放過你的！” “未婚夫？你是說那位許家孫少爺？”男人爆發出嘲笑，“怎麼？季小姐不會還不知道自己早已經被退婚了吧？嗤，被玩膩的破鞋，還裝什麼矜持！” 說完，他肥豬一般的龐大身軀猛然往脆弱的門上一撞！ “啊！”季靈希被突然劇震的門板嚇到後退，雙手顫抖，“退婚？不可能，不可能……” 可真的不可能嗎？ 自從一個月前，季靈希的父親被誣陷貪汙腐敗入獄，母親車禍後昏迷不醒，整個季氏家族就走向了衰亡。 鉅額家產被全部凍結清算，一夜之間，她從千金小姐變成了負債上億的乞丐。 明天她所在的這套房子也要被查封，她是來取最後的行李的，卻正好被那二叔拿捏了行蹤，居然要乘機將她賣給這將近五十歲的死肥豬男！ 眾叛親離，她徹底一無所有了！ 門外，那死肥豬男的不耐煩的聲音再次傳來：“老子可沒耐心陪你玩小兔子乖乖的開門遊戲，去！讓人把鑰匙送上來！” 他有鑰匙！ 季靈希猝然白了臉，一旦門被破開，結局可想而知。 到時候就算是被侵犯致死都沒人會來替她收屍！ 逃！ 季靈希腦海裡只剩下這一個念頭。 身後窗戶大開，狂風裹挾著暴雨入侵，溼透的窗簾翻飛，天際電蛇狂舞，雷聲轟鳴。 她含著淚一咬牙，猛地衝到了窗前。 二樓而已，摔不死！ 縱身一躍—— 在大腦都壓根沒反應過來之前，人已經滾落在了地面草坪上，渾身溼透沾著汙泥。 “嘶！”說不出到底是哪疼，總之通身都像是要摔散架一般。 “人呢？”“翻窗跑了！”聲音從二樓傳來。 季靈希立刻胡亂爬起來，逃命時腎上激素的飆升讓她爆發出無與倫比的潛力。 逃，快逃，快逃啊！ 她趁著夜色和暴雨的掩蓋，就這樣生生衝出了灌木叢生的後院，往路口奔跑而去。 與此同時，馬路盡頭一輛黑色紅旗飛馳而來，車燈射穿雨幕，照在了突然出現，試圖橫穿馬路的黑影身上！ “我去！”司機沒忍住爆了一聲粗口，猛踩剎車的同時狂打方向盤。 後座衣衫考究的斯文男人猝不及防被巨大的慣性所挾持，一腦袋撞在了前座靠背上。 “砰”一聲悶響。 司機頓時魂飛魄散，“市市……市長先生！你沒事吧！？” 男人黑著臉，“你應該問問被你撞的人有沒有事。”說完，他推門下車查看。 黑色傘面被暴雨沖刷，男人腳踩一雙高定皮鞋，踏著汙水來到昏倒在地的女人面前。 司機哭喪著臉，“我明明踩剎車了，好像沒撞到她啊？” “不是你撞的。”男人一眼看出端倪，冷笑了聲，“碰瓷？膽子倒大。” 說完，他冷漠收回目光，轉身就走。 “等等……”剛剛還“昏迷”不醒的女人突然出聲，伸出一隻髒兮兮的手，飛快地拽住了男人剪裁利落乾淨的褲腳，抬起臉虛弱道：“別走，他們在追我，求你救、救我……” 這個聲音…… 男人腳步一頓，回過頭來，漆黑的眸子居高臨下看清了車燈下那張沾著泥土的臉，瞳孔驟縮。 “這、這不是孫少爺的未婚妻嗎！是市長先生您的侄媳婦啊！”司機率先驚叫。 “呵，”男人語調嘲諷，“我侄媳婦？” 他們在說什、什麼……什麼市長媳婦的…… 季靈希眼前男人的臉早就化作重影，耳邊一片嗡嗡，逃到這裡已經耗盡了她所有的力氣，到最後也只能全憑本能的死死抓著那塊一絲一線都昂貴至極的“救命稻草”不放。 男人似乎蹲下了身，但季靈希已經徹底支撐不住，昏厥了過去。 第2章 私人醫生 再醒來是在陌生的房間，窗外是炫目的白晝。 床邊穿著白大褂的醫生正在收拾工具，見季靈希睜眼，立刻高呼：“先生，人醒了！” 男人很快推門進來，對上了床上女人一雙迷茫受驚的小鹿般的眼，眼底是深刻的防備和恐懼。 他走近床邊，“醒了？燒退了嗎？” 冰冰冷冷，有點熟悉的聲音，更熟悉的是那張面無表情的臉。 “……許先生？”季靈希認出人，瞪大眼睛，“怎麼是你？” 這個男人她認識，是她的患者。 季靈希大學一畢業就入職了京市第一人民醫院心內科，許盛廷是她接手的第一個病人。 但神奇的是，許盛廷患有的並非是任何心臟類疾病，而是應該歸屬為精神科的睡眠障礙。 他患有嚴重失眠症，入睡困難，曾有過長達一個月未合過眼，最後暈厥在辦公室的記錄，他的上一位心理醫生對他束手無措，可機緣巧合下，卻發現許盛廷對季靈希的聲音有特殊反應，能依靠她的聲音睡著！ 於是他便被轉到了季靈希名下，成為了一個“特殊”病人。 這段時間的變故讓季靈希分身乏術，醫院那邊不得已請了長假，倒是許久沒有為許盛廷催眠了。 季靈希看著男人那張過分英俊的臉，高挺的鼻樑在臉頰落下陰影，嘴唇偏薄顯得不近人情，一雙冷靜威嚴的鷹眸底下，卻掛著兩個煞風景的黑眼圈。 眼睛裡也有不少紅血絲，顯然是太久沒能休息，精神高度緊繃造成的。 “謝謝許先生救了我。”季靈希坐起身，小臉脆弱蒼白。 回想起暈倒前的一切，她沒想到豁出性命的一次“碰瓷”，居然正好碰到了熟人身上！ 不幸中的萬幸。 “不客氣，我也很慶幸沒有背上一條人命。”許盛廷確認她已經退燒後，便讓醫生離開了，自己則順勢坐在了醫生的位置上。 “抱歉……”季靈希羞愧垂眼，“我不得不那樣。” 她尷尬的雙手絞著衣角，卻突然意識到自己身上的衣服已經換了。 也是，渾身溼乎乎髒兮兮的，怎麼上床？ 可是誰給她換的？不會是…… “昨晚是讓保姆給你洗的澡，換了衣服。”許盛廷見她呆呆地盯著衣服出神，臉還越來越紅，就猜到了她在想什麼。 “謝、謝謝。”被看穿心裡所想，季靈希更羞恥了。 好在許盛廷沒再繼續計較，而是突然提起另一件事：“你是不打算回醫院了嗎？” “短時間內我可能確實回不去了。”她實話實說。 醫院的工作需要花費大量時間和全部精力，但工資對於現在的她來說卻是杯水車薪，再加上父親的冤屈還未洗刷，季靈希不能把時間全部交代在那裡。 許盛廷的表情更冷了，“那你的病人怎麼辦？半途而廢，季醫生未免太不負責。” 什麼病人，他分明就是在說他自己！ 季靈希低下頭，“如果許先生需要催眠的話，可以隨時聯繫我，能來我一定來。” 也算是報答他這次的救命之恩了。 “是嗎？可你的電話打不通，消息也一直未讀。” 季靈希一愣，想起了什麼，尷尬道：“抱歉，我的手機不久前壞了……”被那群追債的砸了，還沒來得及買新的。 許盛廷皺了皺眉，顯然也想到了現下季靈希的狼狽，他沒有多問，只是叫了人進來吩咐了什麼，很快那人出去又進來，手裡多了一部手機。 許盛廷把手機交給季靈希，“以後用這個聯繫。” “啊？”怎麼能平白無故拿人家東西，季靈希第一反應是拒絕。 卻被許盛廷制止，“先別急著拒絕，我還有一份合約要和你商議。” “什麼合約？” “首先，我願意每月支付你五十萬。” 什麼？ 季靈希睜大眼睛看他，一臉震驚。 隨即她意識到什麼，驀地扯過被子將自己裹緊，只露出一雙警惕的眼睛。 悶悶的聲音隔著棉被傳來：“許先生，我不賣身的。” 看著他正派的眉眼和楚楚的衣冠，季靈希心道，沒想到也只是個人模狗樣的男人。 許盛廷沉默了會兒，突然莫名笑了下，“是嗎？加錢也不可以嗎，只需要每晚……” 伴隨著他越來越露骨的發言，季靈希炸毛一般，“當然不可以！” “只需要每晚給我催眠。”男人徐徐補充完整。 季靈希僵住。 “季醫生想到哪裡去了？”許盛廷看著她羞恥的眼，語氣揶揄，“我只是想聘請你做我的私人醫生而已，畢竟你是這個世界上唯一能讓我睡著的人。” 簽合同的時候，季靈希的臉還因為尷尬發著紅。 但同時她也感到難以置信，許先生居然真的開了月薪五十萬聘請她做私人醫生，而她的工作僅僅是每晚來給他催眠而已，這簡直是天上掉餡餅的事情。 諷刺的是，五十萬，正是那個劉總要買走她的價格。 “謝謝許先生。”季靈希抱著新手機，眼睛亮亮的看著他。 看著她紅撲撲的臉頰，男人眼神一暗，隨即移開目光，“嗯，晚上記得準時到，現在是休息還是離開，都隨意。” 季靈希立刻侷促道：“我很快就走。” “……嗯。” 季靈希出了門，才發現這裡是郊區的一棟私人別墅，私密性很強，和許先生這個人一樣神秘。 神秘到即使作為主治醫師為他治療了三個月，季靈希還是不清楚他的身份，只知道他忙碌且富有，應該是個成功人士。 她用新手機登入了自己的社交賬號，很快彈出一大堆未讀消息。 其中有個紅色的頭像格外醒目，是她的未婚夫許家榮，季家出事後，季靈希一直沒能聯繫上他。 現在他卻發來：靈希，明天下午三點，盛輝酒店1306見。 是昨天的消息。 第3章 一夜給你一萬 距離三點還有一個小時，季靈希看一下地圖，從這裡打車過去剛好來得及。 要去嗎？她心裡突突的跳。 昨天那個死肥豬男的話還歷歷在耳，他說許家早就退婚了。 可季靈希壓根沒收到通知，因此就算許家榮裝死了一個月，她還一直自欺欺人般抱著期待。 季家尚且衰亡，萬一許家也遇到了麻煩呢？或者是擔心受到牽連，等這陣子風頭過了，他就會聯繫她了呢？ 季家和許家在爺爺輩曾是世交，季靈希和許家榮更是自小就定下了娃娃親，兩人青梅竹馬，感情一度是甜蜜的，季靈希在心裡確實曾真心把他當做未來丈夫。 因此還懷揣著天真的期待和信任。 她最終叫了個網約車出發了。 無論退婚一事是真是假，她如今孤立無援，身負鉅債，即使是最後一點希望也要把握！ 網約車上，司機播放著時政廣播，主持人正在播報京市新任市長，是如何新官上任三把火，頒佈了不少利民新政策不說，還抓了一大批貪官汙吏，其中能源部部長季祥和，更是被舉報貪汙公款高達十個億，舉國震驚。 季靈希緊緊咬著唇，眼眶泛紅。 是新市長抓了父親。 說起來，之前她昏迷前，好像是隱隱約約聽到了什麼市長什麼媳婦之類的。 可當時深夜荒涼，周圍只有一輛車上有活人，大概高燒產生的錯覺吧。 如果能見到那位市長就好了，她真的很想瞭解清楚父親貪汙案件的始末，想知道那些所謂確鑿的證據都是從何而來。 她是父親的女兒，最清楚父親的人品，他是絕對做不出貪汙公款這種事情的！ 但以她現在的身份，想見那位市長一面，恐怕難如登天。 車停在了盛輝酒店門口，季靈希下車後，按照門牌號很快來到約定地點。 房門沒有關嚴，應該是許家榮已經到了，在等她。 季靈希沒多想，直接推開了門。 房間裡卻一片漆黑。 難道許家榮還沒到？ 季靈希略有疑惑，一邊往裡走一邊摸索開關。 突然她伸出的手腕被猛地攥住。 有人！ 季靈希猝然睜大眼，驚叫還沒來的及喊出口，就被捂住口鼻，強制拉進了一個光裸的懷抱。 “唔唔唔！”她拼命掙扎，卻完全敵不過對方的力氣，心裡驚懼一片。 “啪！”燈被打開了。 季靈希看清了來人，赫然是許家榮！ 對上她難以置信的眼，許家榮獰笑一聲，砰的把門踢上，緊接著把季靈希按在了牆上。 “靈希，我好想你。”許家榮緊貼著她身體，灼熱的鼻息噴灑在季靈希的脖子上，讓她渾身發毛。 她抗拒的推著他，“許家榮，你幹什麼？” “幹什麼？這不明擺著。”許家榮說著，居然開始撕扯她的衣服。 季靈希愕然，在驚怒之下，照著他裸露的肩膀狠狠咬了下去！ “嘶——”劇烈的痛感，讓許家榮下意識推開她，季靈希趁機逃離他的束縛，閃身抄起床頭櫃的檯燈，警惕的盯著他。 他們如今婚約是否名存實亡都不一定呢，季靈希怎麼可能跟他做！ 許家榮咬牙切齒，“季靈希！你淪落到如今這個地步，還不肯跟我睡？” “當初我圖你季家的助力，讓著你就算了，現如今你家都到這步田地了，你還有什麼可矜持的，扭扭捏捏裝假清高！” 季靈希被羞辱得渾身顫抖，瞪著他，“我只問你，許家是不是退婚了！？” 聞言，許家榮輕蔑一笑，看著季靈希的眼神更是不加掩飾的露骨，“不然呢？你以為你現在還配得上我？季靈希認清現實吧，跟了我，以後一夜給你一萬如何？” 季靈希氣紅了眼，握著檯燈的手都在發抖，“許家榮，我以前怎麼沒發現你這麼噁心？” “呵，我看你是敬酒不吃吃罰酒！”說完，他直接衝上來，季靈希舉起檯燈砸，卻被男人一把擋住，反手將她控制。 力量太懸殊了，季靈希顫抖著咬唇，目露恨光。 這時，許家榮褲兜裡的電話鈴響了。 他不以為然，電話自動掛斷，但緊接著又響起一個特殊的鈴聲。 許家榮動作一頓，咬牙切齒的空出手接通電話：“爺爺。” 對面威嚴的聲音傳出，季靈希離得太近也能聽見。 “家榮啊，你小叔回京市上任也有三個多月了，今晚辦家宴，你現在立刻回來。” 第4章 許家小叔 許老爺子是許家的真正掌權者，威嚴不言而喻，以至於許家榮如今箭在弦上，也不得不偃旗息鼓。 季靈希趁機掙脫開他的束縛，整理好身上的衣服。 見狀，許家榮冷笑：“這次先放過你，季靈希你好好想想吧，做我的女人才是你的最佳選擇，不然有第一個劉總就會有第二個，你以為次次都能逃得掉嗎？” 聽他提起劉總，季靈希難以置信，“你知道？” “當然，你可知你那好叔叔的拜帖遞給過多少人？如今圈子裡誰人不知，你季家大小姐是個五十萬就能買走的便宜貨？” 季靈希瞬間白了臉，眼底的恨意不加掩飾。 但許家榮卻不以為意，失去了季祥和庇護的季靈希就是一隻弱小的兔子，人人都能踩一腳，一隻兔子能有什麼反抗能力呢？ “季靈希，想清楚了隨時聯繫我。” 許家榮晃了晃手機，勢在必得的看了她一眼，轉身離開。 季靈希死死盯著他，在男人轉身之際，突然暴起舉著手中檯燈狠狠砸了下去！ 一聲巨響，紅漿自許家榮頭頂流下，劃過他猝然瞪大的雙眼，落到地面上。 男人抽搐著倒地。 季靈希後知後覺，顫抖著走到他身邊，蹲下身試探鼻息。 還活著。 松了口氣，季靈希站起身，居高臨下看了他兩秒，又不解氣地往那兩腿之間來了一腳。 … 許家。 京市作為H國首都，無數豪門世家紮根於此，其中許家是當之無愧的豪門之首，因此這一年一度的家宴，也舉辦得極其鋪張奢華。 一輛黑色紅旗L9停在了大門口，管家連忙來幫忙拉開車門，男人伸出長腿下車。 “二爺回來了，老爺在屋裡呢，現下除了家榮少爺，其他人也都到了。” 許盛廷聞言，朝他點點頭，徑直往屋裡走。 然而剛靠近主屋，裡面的吵鬧聲就傳了出來。 是他父親，許家家主的聲音，“那混賬東西，婚都退了還非要去招惹人家，還鬧到局子裡去了，簡直丟盡我許家顏面！” “爸，也不能怪我們家榮啊，傳信人說他腦袋都被打破了，分明是受害者！我看是那姓季的，家裡出事想要抓著我們許家不放，糾纏家榮呢！” 許盛廷站在門口沒進去，皺眉問：“怎麼回事？” 老管家尷尬道：“聽說是家榮少爺被他前未婚妻砸破了腦袋，人家姑娘打了120，結果救護車沒到，少爺自己醒了，拉著那姑娘非要報警，現在人被困在局子裡呢。” “他既然是受害者，又為什麼會被扣在警局。” “因為那姑娘跟警察說他試圖侵犯她……” 許盛廷冷笑，隨即推門而入。 與此同時，他大哥許源，估計也是覺得家宴鬧出這事實在丟人，拉著正據理力爭的妻子，勸道：“你別說了，現在當務之急是把家榮接回來。” 他大嫂紅著眼：“警察不肯放人我怎麼接！” “我去接。”冰冷的聲音打斷他們。 “盛廷？”許源尷尬笑道，“你來了，也是，你如今是市長，在警局那邊的面子自然比我們好用。” 許盛廷不置可否，神情冷淡的跟主位上的老爺子打了個招呼。 警局，季靈希坐在和許家榮一欄杆之隔的房間裡，冷眼看著他發瘋。 對此警察也頭疼，他們又何嘗想得罪許家，季靈希雖然控訴許家榮侵犯未遂，但到底拿不出實質的證據，本來教育教育就可以放人。 但許家榮一個嬌生慣養的大少爺，還是第一次被人開瓢，哪裡咽的下這口氣？ 非要強留在這裡死纏爛打，要季靈希坐牢，不然就賠償他五百萬。 五百萬？就憑他頭頂連輕傷都算不上的口子？這不搞笑嘛。 況且罪名雖無法成立，但人家姑娘身上的淤青和破碎的衣服是實打實的，砸他完全是合法自保，他再鬧也沒用啊。 警局外傳來動靜，有人小跑進來，“隊長，許家來人了。” “誰來了？” “好像是許家二爺。” 警長唰得起身，“還不快請進來！” 季靈希聞言抿緊了唇，神態防備。 許家二爺，那不就是許家榮的小叔？肯定是來撈他的。 門被推開，男人高大的身影出現在門口，季靈希警惕地望過去，卻看到了一張意料之外的熟悉的臉。 她人傻了。 怎麼是許盛廷？ ...... 接下來會發生什麼？ 這裡放的章節有限，點選下方按鈕安裝App，繼續閱讀更多精彩章節 （打開應用程式時會自動跳到該書） &5&		Love reading - A		85	https://www.facebook.com/61568188880222/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656570	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 12:20 PM	1735691946	1749489613		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656394	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 2:39 PM	1735691943	1749497978		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656707	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 1:47 PM	1735691949	1749494826		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XhQmwr05aGcQ7kNvgHQbvMH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDXlm9YcMpbe8R-tXH93kTSsbfiJt11V_RhjVlufTPybw&oe=677A7488	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656922	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 3:53 PM	1735691955	1749502423		2174																														IMAGE						4.5189852183898E+14	B&B Theatres Lee's Summit New Longview 7	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472131472_2009610702869469_6644258604777377362_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-Au0tdvs42QQ7kNvgF5zMoq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYBNTu4uDMJgcMCq-pnOzs4h99dGPbKG19BRUTR_xvpSlQ&oe=677A67AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		COMING UP! Marquee Night Out - Dry January Mixology Join us on January 9th at 7:30 PM 🎟️ Tickets are available now: https://bit.ly/3Bk50v9 🍹 Sip, savor, and impress in this new year! Learn the recipes and enjoy these exclusive mocktails, then impress your friends with your skills! There are 3 separate mocktails for you: Storyboard- A tropical delight Call Sheet- A citrus-forward and fabulous Movie Star- A Grove 42 sensation Whether you’re a seasoned pro or a complete beginner, this event is perfect for you. Grab your friends and get ready to enjoy a night of delicious fun! *Attendees must be 21+ and will be carded at the event. Taxes and fees still apply*		B&B Theatres Lee's Summit New Longview 7		7095	https://www.facebook.com/BBLeesSummitNewLongview7/	0										View Edit Delete
2656432	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 3:06 PM	1735691943	1749499593		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656800	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 3:29 PM	1735691951	1749500955		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656895	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 3:37 PM	1735691953	1749501467		2174																											Contact us			IMAGE	Postres Hoy Martes Entrega Gratis		https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/1325129375501015/			9.7323537954083E+14	Esoj Oredroc	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471998421_487470767696909_4099924016949468019_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=W5jA64ohRHQQ7kNvgHxL8-h&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYDaHbTAAyLTkodpp6B08IAvs-KsibGHZVCXivsqi_eDCA&oe=677A5B0B	REGULAR_PAGE	1					0		Postres Hoy Martes Entrega Gratis - $21.00 🙋🏼‍♂️Hola muy buenas tardes, hoy "Martes" estaremos entregando a domicilio ricos postres hechos en casa. 🏙En las ciudades de "OAKLAND, HAYWARD, RICHMOND, SAN LEANDRO, EMERVILLE, ALAMEDA, SAN LORENZO, CASTRO VALLEY, UNION CITY, RICHMOND, SAN PABLO, EL CERRITO, EL SOBRANTE, CROCKETT, SELBY, TORMEY, TARA HILLS, RODEO, BERKELEY, PINOLE, HERCULES Y FREMONT" de "3 PM a 9 PM" Interesados favor de enviar un mensaje al 707-372-8769 o por Facebook messenger 😀. 🍓Cheesecake de fresa $25 🍰Pastel 3 leches $23 🌰Pastel 3 leches mocha $23 🍫Chocoflan $23 🍙Cheesecake de oreo $23 🍮Flan napolitano de 3 leches $22 🧀Cheesecake $22 🍍Volteado de piña $22 🌽Pan de elote $21 🍌Pan de platano con nuez $21 🚨No sé cobra la entrega, las propinas son bienvenidas, gracias Dios los bendiga. Facebook Marketplace		Esoj Oredroc		0	https://www.facebook.com/Esoj-Oredroc-973235379540834/	0		CONTACT_US								View Edit Delete
2656753	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 6:02 PM	1735691950	1749510172		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2656769	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 6:53 PM	1735691950	1749513226		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656651	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 6:15 PM	1735691948	1749510902		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vVbgWEWv_80Q7kNvgE5MWAN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYBCBtKDcpID1uHaZxjCimRCGhLAeHRqh2UQBQlJSrdp2A&oe=677A7152	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656433	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 12:57 AM	1735691943	1749535043		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656850	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 12:58 AM	1735691952	1749535113		2174																										fbweb.kifflire.com	Learn More			DCO	Cliquez ici pour en savoir plus👉👉		https://fbweb.kifflire.com/20896410-fb_contact-frp83_2-241203-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=3889292031299494&rawadid=120214034065280239			4.8124148173477E+14	Loving reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469126951_929831642041768_4946662884723292667_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NMO0DxF4RBcQ7kNvgGugZih&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYA38LqX40K49B7Igk-9pCz_HlRHLodgn6j3NRpeUYrOuw&oe=677A740A	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		« Divorçons. » Colton Stevens s'est approché avec impatience. Allison Clarke luttait pour garder son sang-froid. « C'est notre troisième anniversaire de mariage aujourd'hui. » Elle avait passé des heures à préparer une table couverte des plats préférés. Colton s'est moqué. « Quatre millions devraient te permettre de vivre toute ta vie. Melany est revenue. Elle est orgueilleuse, et elle ne supportera pas toute cette situation.» Melany était celle qui tenait son cœur, elle l'avait quitté trois ans plus tôt, rompant leurs fiançailles et partant à l'étranger. Pourtant, aujourd'hui, sur un simple mot de sa part, Colton a facilement accepté son retour et a choisi de divorcer d'Allison sans la moindre hésitation. Le cœur d'Allison s'est effondré. Elle était autrefois une parfumeuse de génie, une pirate informatique de renom. Pendant trois ans, elle avait enterré toute trace de son génie, se transformant en parfaite femme au foyer. Récemment, elle avait obtenu une opportunité rare avec Cobweb, le réseau de renseignement le plus insaisissable, dans l'espoir d'aider la famille Stevens à conclure une affaire cruciale. Pourtant, maintenant, la piqûre de la trahison l'a profondément marquée. Il a jeté un coup d'œil à sa montre, comptant manifestement le temps. « Tu ferais mieux de te préparer et d'engager un avocat... » Il n'a pas pu terminer. « Je sais ce qu'il faut faire », l'a interrompu Allison, la voix teintée de dégoût. Elle s'est replongée dans un souvenir d'enfance où elle était aveugle et en grand danger. Un garçon l'avait portée sur son dos pendant trois jours et trois nuits, lui sauvant la vie. Ce garçon avait dit qu'il s'appelait Colton Stevens. À présent, trois ans après leur mariage, ce même garçon l'obligeait à partir. Le temps transformait parfois les gens en étrangers. « Je vais y aller », a dit Allison en revenant à l'instant présent. Elle s'est levée et a regardé Colton avec fermeté et détachement. « À partir de maintenant, nous ne nous devons plus rien l'un à l'autre. » &6&		Loving reading		761	https://www.facebook.com/61567813351718/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656808	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 1:30 AM	1735691951	1749537017		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBghTC_-ZAyCm726ul_FwOaF4adxdq2NPTxCPjDeZ2PWg&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656654	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 5:34 AM	1735691948	1749551690		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vVbgWEWv_80Q7kNvgE5MWAN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYBCBtKDcpID1uHaZxjCimRCGhLAeHRqh2UQBQlJSrdp2A&oe=677A7152	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656648	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 5:17 AM	1735691948	1749550627		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vVbgWEWv_80Q7kNvgE5MWAN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYBCBtKDcpID1uHaZxjCimRCGhLAeHRqh2UQBQlJSrdp2A&oe=677A7152	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2656440	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 7:53 AM	1735691944	1749560004		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656530	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 9:30 AM	1735691946	1749565851		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656551	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 8:25 AM	1735691946	1749561923		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656803	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 8:33 AM	1735691951	1749562382		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656616	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 10:22 AM	1735691947	1749568943		2174																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oy1vAKbjbb4Q7kNvgEKUn0w&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYB7KkKVjI93MwbKMq9yf4NK03YM12NW2VdZzoQKW8o3qw&oe=677A7472	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656948	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 11:59 AM	1735691956	1749574780		2174																														MULTI_IMAGES						5.5231639128726E+14	Irene Walters Whitesides	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471950352_460245180246449_3021456074973774132_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-HzLdLsd_LMQ7kNvgF5dknx&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYAo3WpM42HglPHhONGB-UXw1Ie3rL_lJpEhJlIFrWD8uA&oe=677A76E3	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		THE LOVE THAT CHANGES EVERYTHING ♥️ Last night, I came home later than usual. My body was tired, and my heart felt a little heavy. The kind of tired where even home feels quiet, and you notice the stillness. I walked in, took care of the pets, and started dinner. It was one of those nights where everything felt like a task, yet I whispered prayers to the Lord as I moved through it. Just Him and me, no music, only my heart speaking to His. I prayed for strength, for encouragement, for my spirit to lift. “Lord, let me be a blessing, even in my weariness” (Galatians 6:9). My husband came home not long after, tired like me, I could see it in his face. We sat down to eat, cleaned up, and then I went to the sitting room, longing for quiet time with my Heavenly Father. As I settled in, my husband came in too, sitting across from me on the couch. I looked over at him, and something soft and warm washed over me. I felt the glow of God’s love. A love so big it reminded me He is always with us, even in the moments when we’re tired, needy, or overwhelmed (Isaiah 41:10). I opened my book illustrations to jot down more thoughts for my illustrator. As I looked at Gracie’s little eyes on Page Three, I froze. She was looking back at me, and in her eyes, I saw a little girl who once felt just like her—unsure, sad, and full of questions. Gracie was comparing herself to the beauty around her—the vibrant birds and playful bunnies in the meadow. She didn’t see her own worth. She felt small, unnoticed, and unworthy of the same joy and beauty she saw in others. I turned to my husband, moved closer, and rested my head on his chest. Then I whispered out loud, almost like I was speaking to that little girl in me: “It’s okay, Gracie. Your life gets better. You’ll find a God who loves you, who sees you, who will fill your heart with joy. You’ll marry a husband who loves you, believes in you, who encourages you.” As I spoke, my husband smiled at me😊a warm, cozy smile that reminded me of God’s faithfulness (Psalm 34:5). Tears filled my eyes because I realized how far the Lord had brought me.♥️ I’m writing this for you, for anyone who feels the way Gracie felt. Maybe you’re tired. Maybe you feel unseen or unloved. Maybe, like Gracie, you’ve looked at others and thought, “Why am I not like them?” But listen: God sees you. He always has (Jeremiah 29:11). You are His, created with love and care (Psalm 139:13-14). Draw near to Him. Talk to Him like you would your best friend. Tell Him your joys, your sorrows, your dreams. He is listening (1 Peter 5:7). Gracie’s story is my story. And maybe it’s yours too. God is waiting for you, ready to show you His love. You’re not alone. You’re never alone (Deuteronomy 31:6). So tonight, as you rest, or today as you walk through this day, whisper to Him. Let Him fill you with His peace that surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:7). He loves you. Oh, how He loves you. ♥️ Gracie’s Flight of Faith… coming soon. 🦋3/3/25		Irene Walters Whitesides		112	https://www.facebook.com/irene.whitesides.7/	0										View Edit Delete
2656866	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 2:59 PM	1735691952	1749585593		2174																										fbweb.lera.mobi	Learn more			IMAGE	Continuar lendo👉👉👉		https://fbweb.lera.mobi/3670409-fb-abtest-70Q.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=241242718481731&rawadid=120216788062720663			1.1921889460562E+14	Lera reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471208390_950326006710349_4903328755746830655_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=j6B-fO8SYjUQ7kNvgHiSx8p&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYBrioqOXunX5gzjPvbpnclzB03_pFiovxgS80nJRISzEA&oe=677A72D6	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Para pagar as despesas médicas da avó, ela concordou em vender seu corpo para o CEO, alegando que o relacionamento entre os dois era apenas físico e poderia terminar a qualquer momento. Mas no fim, ele não queria deixá-la ir... ===== -- Senhorita Phillips? Aqui é Heidi Williams. A senhorita foi selecionada para o cargo de secretária temporária na MacGyver & Co. Esperamos pela senhorita na segunda-feira. Amanhã, por gentileza, leve seus documentos até o RH, no mesmo prédio no qual a senhorita fez a entrevista. Seja bem-vinda! -- A voz gentil e amigável de uma mulher falou do outro lado da linha assim que Vasti atendeu ao telefone. -- Oh, minha nossa. é… Obrigada. Obrigada! -- Vasti não conseguiu segurar o sorriso e logo, a ligação foi finalizada. -- Boas notícias, senhorita? -- O idoso que dirigia o táxi perguntou, olhando pelo retrovissor. -- As melhores! Eu consegui um emprego! -- Vasti respondeu, emocionada. "Agora eu vou poder ajudar melhor a vovó!" Vasti Ramona Phillips era com certeza uma moça determinada. Ela conseguiu uma bolsa de Secretariado em Cambridge. Era uma bolsa de 50%, então, ela teve que trabalhar para pagar o restante. Definitivamente o pai dela é quem não iria pagar. O esforço dela era mais para cuidar da avó do que dela mesma. Os pais de Vasti, ou Vee, como ela preferia ser chamada, se conheceram ainda jovens, a mãe dela com apenas dezoito anos. Ela trabalhava na casa dos Scott, quando se apaixonou pelo filho dos patrões. O resultado não poderia ser pior: ela engravidou, foi chutada da casa e Dimas se casou com outra mulher. Como Alissa havia falecido, por um último resquício de moral dele, ele não cortou contato com a avó da criança, Janete. Mas ele não as sustentava, no máximo, dava uma pequena ajuda a fim de que não morressem de fome quando a situação ficava extremamente complicada. -- Meus parabéns! -- ele disse. O carro parou poucos minutos depois e Vasti não conseguia se conter de alegria. No dia seguinte, após ir ao RH, ela decidiu que passaria no hospital e contaria para a avó. Vasti fechou os olhos e se lembrou da conversa que teve com o pai minutos antes. FLASHBACK -- Muito bem, eu vou cuidar dessa velha. Mas você, Vasti, não se atreva a abrir o bico! Se você o fizer, eu juro que eu vou garantir que ela receba outro tipo de tratamento! -- O homem de olhos azuis gélidos falou, com desdém. Vasti abaixou a cabeça, sentindo-se humilhada e impotente. Ela odiava pedir qualquer coisa a ele e evitava ao máximo falar com Dimas Scott. Nem mesmo o sobrenome ele havia dado a ela. --Pode deixar. Eu vou ficar calada -- Vasti prometeu, séria. Ela era a filha bastarda de um homem importante. Se a mídia soubesse que ele teve uma filha e não a assumiu, seria um escândalo e o nome dele estaria manchado. --Ótimo. Agora, pode ir embora! -- Dimas não era o homem mais carinhoso do mundo, mas com Vasti, ele era pior ainda. A moça concordou com a cabeça e se foi. "Mas que inferno! Porém, vale a pena. É pela vovó!", ela pensou, enquanto saia pela porta dos fundos da residência dos Scott, na Blenheim Crescent, e chama um táxi por aplicativo, a fim de voltar para o humilde apartamento que ela alugava, na Acton. Era o bairro mais barato e com facilidade de locomoção que ela conhecia. FIM DO FLASHBACK Uma vez formada, Vasti acreditou que tudo se endireitaria, até que veio a doença de Janete. Os rins não funcionavam muito bem. Não mais. -- Eu vou conseguir um bom trabalho! -- ela prometeu à idosa. Isso foi há quase um mês. Depois de fazer vários bicos, Vasti finalmente resolveu se humilhar para Dimas. Inicialmente, ele se recusou a ajudar, mas quando ela mencionou sobre falar para o mundo todo quem era o pai dela, ele cedeu. Vasti se sentiu baixa ao fazer isso, mas não viu outra alternativa, já que ela não tinha credibilidade suficiente para conseguir um bom empréstimo. Ainda. No dia seguinte, Vasti acordou muito cedo, se arrumou formalmente, pegou a pasta com os documentos dela e foi para a companhia que, pelo menos pelos próximos seis meses, seria seu novo local de trabalho. Ao chegar lá, ela foi direto para o andar do RH e esperou pacientemente na fila. Um homem muito bonito apareceu, passando na frente de todos e indo falar com a moça no balcão, que claramente estava se derretendo por ele. Mas ele não pareceu notar ou se importar. Ao se virar, ele passou os olhos por Vasti. Os olhos verdes penetrantes dele eram incríveis, contrastando lindamente com os cabelos curtos e negros. Por um segundo, Vasti achou que aquele Adonis não poderia ser real e que ele. Ela sentiu uma conexão com o belo homem, até ele virar o rosto com um ar de superioridade e seguir caminho, como se não a tivesse visto de todo. Vasti abaixou a cabeça. É óbvio que um homem lindo daquele não daria a mínima para ela, que possuía uma beleza comum: cabelos castanhos e olhos azuis claros, seu único charme e que, para o desgosto dela, tinha herdado do pai. Ela entregou os documentos dela e, oficialmente, ela era empregada da MacGyver & Co. Temporária, mas era. Ela recebeu um crachá, um kit iniciante de escritório e uma pasta para organização. Os acessos a computadores seriam fornecidos pela própria senhorita Heidi Williams, a secretária a quem ela cobriria nos meses seguintes. Já no hospital, Vasti entrou saltitante no quarto da avó. -- Ora, eu vejo que está muito feliz! -- A idosa falou, sorrindo fracamente. -- Vovó, eu consegui! O meu primeiro emprego na minha área. É temporário por seis meses, mas quem sabe eu não sou aproveitada em outro setor, não é mesmo? -- Parabéns, meu amor! Você sempre foi muito esforçada. Eu estou tão orgulhosa! As duas conversaram sobre os planos futuros e Janete tocou no assunto que a estava preocupando demais. -- Vasti, eu sei que este hospital é muito dispendioso. Você tem certeza de que não quer que eu vá para outro? -- Pode ficar tranquila, Dona Janete. Está tudo sob controle. Eu vou pagar o melhor que eu puder. Sempre. Se ficar muito pesado, eu vejo como faço. Mas a senhora vai ficar boa. -- Minha menina de ouro -- Janete falou e lágrimas escorreram pelo rosto dela. -- Não, vó, a senhora é de ouro. O fim de semana foi uma correria para Vasti . Ela precisava deixar tudo preparado para a semana que ela teria. Segunda-feira o alarme apitou às cinco da manhã. Vasti levantou, grogue, tomou banho, se preparou e desceu. Ela dificilmente tomava café da manhã, ainda mais quando estava super nervosa. Ela não queria arriscar vomitar. Seria humilhante demais uma coisa dessas acontecer no primeiro dia dela. Vasti ainda nem tinha chegado à empresa e Heidi já tinha ligado para ela inúmeras vezes. Era necessário manter a agenda do Sr. MacGyver perfeitamente organizada e atualizada. Vasti precisava saber de absolutamente todo e qualquer compromisso que ele viria a ter. Por mais que Heidi fosse estar com ela pelas próximas duas semanas, ela já queria que Vasti entrasse no ritmo frenético que era a vida do patrão delas. -- Você vai se acostumar. E quanto mais rápido fizer isso, melhor. Estou te esperando aqui! -- Heidi falou pelo telefone. -- Obrigada. Eu não vou decepcionar! -- Vasti falou com confiança. Esse foi um dos motivos de Heidi tê-la escolhido. Além das qualificações, é claro, Vasti tinha uma energia muito boa, era humilde e não parecia do tipo que daria em cima do patrão assim que colocasse os olhos nele. Essa era uma exigência do Sr. MacGyver. A primeira pessoa a recebê-la foi uma morena bonita, de cabelos ondulados e sorriso largo. Melinda Barbosa, era o que se lia no crachá dela. -- Bom dia! Bem-vinda! -- A moça disse, simpática. -- Bom dia! Obrigada! -- A senhorita Heidi já está vindo. E estava, mesmo. Pois mal Melinda terminou de falar, a mulher esbelta de cabelos castanhos apareceu, com seus óculos de aro de tartaruga, que em nada diminuía a sua beleza. Principalmente quando ela sorria. -- Bom dia, senhorita Phillips! -- Bom dia! Heidi a levou para fazer um mini tour pelo andar, que não era pequeno. Alí era a área mais próxima ao Presidente da empresa, a quem Vasti serviria. Outras pessoas trabalhavam ali, como assistentes. A manhã foi muito corrida e Vasti já estava morrendo de fome quando o relógio marcou meio dia. Mas ela precisava ser liberada para o almoço. Então, ela decidiu ir até a copa e beber mais um copo de água a fim de enganar o estômago dela, que já começava a roncar baixo. Ao se virar, ela deu de encontro com o que parecia ser uma parede e o copo entornou em cima dela, molhando a frente da blusa dela. Ela olhou para a blusa, antes de virar para cima e dar de cara com um par de olhos verdes penetrantes. Ele olhou para a blusa dela e, depois, voltou a olhar para o rosto de Vasti. Ele levantou uma sobrancelha e passou por ela ,fazendo uma cara que Vasti só poderia interpretar como nojo. Vasti colocou a mão na frente do corpo e foi para o banheiro. O Adonis era antipático. "De todos os lugares, esse homem tinha que trabalhar no mesmo andar que eu!" Ela se lamentou mentalmente. Antes que ela pudesse se sentar na cadeira dela, Heidi pediu que ela fosse até a sala dela. -- Sim, o que houve? -- Vasti perguntou, após dar uma batida na porta para anunciar a chegada dela. Heidi esfregou as mãos, nervosa e mordeu o lábio. Vasti sentiu um aperto no peito. -- Ah, eu nem sei como dizer isso. Mas… eu apenas sigo ordens, ok? Você está demitida. O sorriso de Vasti foi murchando e murchando. -- Oi? -- Vasti perguntou, sem entender nada. Talvez ela tivesse ouvido errado. -- Eu também não sei o que houve. Mas o patrão disse que não precisa dos seus serviços. Ele parecia irritado… Vocês tiveram algum desentendimento? -- Mas… Isso é um absurdo! Eu não fiz nada de errado! -- Ela reclamou, exasperada. -- Moça, eu preciso desse emprego! -- Eu entendo, mas eu não posso fazer nada. Você ia trabalhar com ele e, por alguma razão que só Deus sabe qual é, o Sr. MacGyver decidiu por não manter você. Eu sinto muito, mesmo. Vasti nunca tinha se sentido daquela maneira. Não, na verdade, ela tinha, sim. Quando ela não fazia nada de errado e, ainda assim, ela levava a culpa, algo que quase sempre acontecia quando ela lidava com a madrasta e com a meia-irmã! Parecia até que o desgraçado do homem era da família dela, da parte de pai. Ela se virou, foi até a mesa que estava ocupando e pegou as coisas dela, tentando ao máximo controlar as lágrimas que teimavam em querer escorrer pelos olhos dela. Mas as mãos de Vasti tremiam. Heidi a olhou com pena. Assim que Vasti entrou no elevador, Heidi foi direto para a sala do patrão dela. -- Por que fez isso com a moça? -- Ela perguntou -- Eu fiz a entrevista, ela tem todas as qualificações. E não só as acadêmicas! -- Não, ela não tem. No primeiro dia que pisou aqui, já tentou me s**uzir! Essas são as qualificações? -- O quê? O que houve, afinal? -- Heidi perguntou. O homem, sentado na cadeira, com uma pose imponente, se inclinou levemente para frente e segurou a caneta dele displicentemente entre os dedos, sem tirar os olhos da secretária. -- O que você ouviu. Ela fingiu esbarrar em mim para que a água que ela levava no copo caísse sobre a blusa, deixando-a transparente. E ficou me encarando com aqueles olhos que eu conheço bem o significado, Heidi. Essa mulher não serve para trabalhar aqui. Ela serve para outro tipo de serviço, não para ser a sua substituta pelos próximos meses! -- Eu custo a acreditar nisso. Ela não me pareceu ser desse tipo. Ela precisa do emprego e não faria isso, porque… -- Heidi tentou argumentar, mas o homem balançou a cabeça e a interrompeu. -- Eu sei do que estou falando. Agora, escolha outra candidata. E,dessa vez, por favor, escolha direito ou eu vou pensar que você está ou fazendo de propósito, ou a sua competência não está no nível mínimo aceitável. Segurando a vontade de bufar e falar mais algumas coisas, Heidi saiu da sala do patrão. Ela tinha certeza de que ele tinha visto chifre em cabeça de cavalo. O pior de tudo era que uma moça que precisava tanto do trabalho, agora estava desempregada. Heidi iria pensar se tinha como ela ajudar a moça, de alguma forma. Talvez conseguir um outro serviço em uma empresa conhecida. Enquanto isso, Vasti voltava para casa, sentindo-se mais do que derrotada. Dizer que ela estava arrasada era apenas uma palavra fraca para descrever o sofrimento do coração dela. Para algumas pessoas, talvez, não houvesse motivo para tanto barulho. Era puro drama, mas ela sabia o quanto isso estava longe da verdade. Perder aquele emprego significava que ela precisaria rezar para encontrar outro logo, ou, mais uma vez, teria que ir se humilhar para o pai dela. Aquilo era degradante. Depois de chegar em casa, Vasti tirou os sapatos, colocou a bolsa na mesinha da entrada e foi para o quarto dela, se deixando cair na cama. E chorou. Por um bom tempo. Então, quando o sol já tinha ido dormir, Vasti se sentou e decidiu fazer uma coisa que ela não fazia com frequência: sair. -- Alô, Nanda? -- Vasti falou assim que a ligação foi aceita. -- Vasti! Nossa, achei que você tinha me esquecido! Como foi lá no trabalho novo? -- Vasti havia contado a Fernanda sobre o novo emprego e esta chegou a chamar Vasti para beber, ao final do expediente, para comemorar. Porém, Vasti, preocupada em não encher a cara e ir trabalhar no segundo dia com ressaca, recusou. -- Eu preciso de um drink. -- Oh, ho. O que houve? -- Fernanda sabia muito bem quando Vasti estava com problemas ou chateada. -- Podemos nos encontrar hoje? -- Vasti perguntou, fechando os olhos e suspirando longamente. -- Claro. Vem pro Shadow -- Fernanda falou. A empresa que ela trabalhava ficava perto da boate e, por mais que fosse cara, o namorado de Fernanda trabalhava lá, o que garantia descontos satisfatórios. -- Beleza. Eu vou tomar um banho, me arrumar e já, já, eu chego aí. --Tá. Assim que a ligação terminou, Vasti se levantou da cama, praticamente se arrastou até o banheiro e tirou a roupa, entrando debaixo do chuveiro. Ela já estava arrependida de ter resolvido sair. Após menos de uma hora, olhando-se no espelho, ela achou que estava aceitável. O vestido era azul marinho, com uma leve camada de brilho, bem sutil. As alças finas do vestido, mais o formato do busto, e o tecido, deixavam Vasti com um corpo de violão e ombros bonitos. Ela estava de cabelos soltos e uma maquiagem leve. Vasti tinha uma altura mediana, em torno de 1.63m de altura, portanto, o salto alto reto preto de sete centímetros não a deixaram imensamente alta, mas seriam o suficiente para que ela ficasse com as pernas lindíssimas e alongadas. Ela pediu um táxi e chegou ao Shadow depois de mais ou menos uma hora e meia que tinha falado com Fernanda. Esta esperava pela amiga na porta da boate. -- Olha só essa gata! -- Fernanda falou e abraçou Vasti --Sorte que você é quietinha, se não, nenhuma garota aqui dentro teria chances, viu? -- Deixa de graça, Nanda. Vamos ao que interessa. -- Não é graça. Você é linda, mesmo. E sim, vamos ao que interessa. Me conta o que houve. Apesar de Fernanda estar vestida com roupas mais de escritório, com a saia lápis e blusa de botão, ela não estava tão diferente de algumas pessoas, ali. Era comum elas saírem do trabalho e irem beber alguma coisa naquele local. As duas foram para uma mesa e pediram seus drinques. -- Eu fui demitida -- Vasti falou por fim, bebendo um pouco do conteúdo do copo dela. -- Mas… -- Fernanda quase cuspiu a bebida dela -- Demitida? Como isso? Ah, não, me conta isso direito! -- Eu sei lá. Eu cheguei, fui trabalhar e tudo estava indo muuuito bem. Até que eu fui beber uma água e esbarrei em alguém. Acho que era algum chefe de departamento, não sei. Mas quando voltei para a mesa, fui chamada na sala da secretária e demitida. Simples assim. -- Isso é absurdo! Mas que homem cruel e sem coração é esse? Você só esbarrou nele! O alecrim dourado é feito de quê? Areia? -- Eu não sei. Só o que eu sei é que estou sem emprego. E eu preciso trabalhar. Você sabe disso -- Vasti disse, cansada. Ela já não queria mais estar na boate. Pela manhã, ela teria que acordar cedo e procurar um novo emprego. -- É, eu sei. Deixa esse velho sacana do seu ex-chefe pra lá. Se você quiser, acho que o Will arranja um emprego pra você aqui. Eu sei que não é o seu estilo, mas… Eu to sem vagas em aberto lá na empresa. -- É sério? -- Vasti perguntou, mais animada. Sim, ela não era do tipo de trabalhar em boate como garçonete ou coisa do tipo, mas ela precisava de uma renda -- Eu aceito! Eu preciso pagar as contas da vovó e você sabe que o meu pai… -- Eu sei. Mas você pode contar comigo. Eu não sou rica, mas… Se eu puder ajudar a tia Janete, ajudarei! -- Obrigada -- Vasti falou sorrindo e tomou o restante da bebida dela, fazendo sinal para o garçom servir mais -- A propósito, o homem no qual eu esbarrei não era velho. Ele é bonitão, até. Se não fosse ser tão ruim… -- Sério? Hmm. Uma pena, mesmo. Tem gente que é bonita por fora, e podre por dentro. Basta olhar pra sua meia-irmã. Aquela bruxa. Sem falar da sua madrasta. -- Nem me fale… As duas beberam mais um pouco e Will chegou até elas. -- Como vão as minhas duas princesas? -- Ele perguntou. Ele era um moreno bonito, alto, com um sorriso encantador. Fernanda o conheceu ainda no ensino médio e eles tiveram os altos e baixos deles, namorando firme quase no final da graduação dela. -- Estamos bem. E querendo dançar! -- Fernanda falou e estendeu a mão para Vasti, que recusou. -- A próxima! -- Vasti falou -- Na verdade, eu preciso ir ao banheiro. Eu já volto! Fica aí com o Will. Fernanda ficou na mesa com o namorado, esperando por Vasti. Vasti estava um pouco tonta, já que não era acostumada a beber muito. Ela foi até o banheiro, mas ele estava ocupado. Ela esperou do lado de fora, mas após alguns minutos, nada de desocupar. -- Oi? Vai demorar muito? - ela perguntou, dando uma leve batida na porta. Ela aproximou o ouvido ao não receber resposta e pôde ouvir um g**ido. Mas era masculino. Vasti olhou para a porta e levantou a sobrancelha, revirando os olhos, em seguida. "Mas que ótimo" -- Por favor! Gente, eu to apertada! Barulho de roupa, zíper e, finalmente, a porta se abriu. Uma loira alta, bonita e com o batom borrada saiu de lá, passando os dedos pelo canto da boca. Vasti sabia o que a mulher estava fazendo. -- Estraga prazeres! -- A mulher disse e passou por Vasti, batendo no ombro dela. "Me poupe!" Vasti pensou, fazendo careta. -- Ah, pois -- Ela acabou falando e se virou para o banheiro, quando deu de cara com aqueles olhos verdes que ela reconheceria de cara. "Mas… Não é possível!" Ele a olhava penetrantemente, com a mãos no bolso da calça e um sorriso de lado. -- Você não desiste, não é? -- Ele perguntou, olhando-a de cima a baixo. Isso trouxe Vasti, que estava olhando para ele de boca levemente aberta, à realidade. Ela franziu o cenho, olhando para ele de maneira incrédula. -- Não entendi o que você tá querendo insinuar -- Ela devolveu o olhar de desdém a ele. Ele zombou, olhando em volta rapidamente, antes de pousar os olhos nos dela, novamente. -- Eu detesto mulher que se faz de sonsa. Se você quer tanto, basta falar. Não tem que ficar de jogos e, muito menos, me perseguindo. Vasti abriu a boca, dessa vez, sem acreditar no que estava ouvindo. -- Como é que é? -- Ela esbravejou -- Você é maluco? Deve ser, mesmo. Porque por sua culpa, eu fui demitida! E eu nem sei o motivo. Foi porque eu esbarrei em você?E agora, não satisfeito, está me acusando de TE perseguir? -- Ela soltou um riso de deboche e o olhou de cima a baixo -- Pra sua informação, eu vim com a minha amiga, que conhece gente que trabalha no local! Essa é a boate que visitamos normalmente. E eu só vim aqui porque precisava espairecer depois de um certo ba**ca prepotente e metido a besta me demitir sem razão! Portanto, é mais fácil VOCÊ estar me perseguindo! Ela sabia que não deveria falar assim com o chefe dela. "Não, não, EX-CHEFE", ela se lembrou. Sim, ex. Isso significava que ela não tinha que segurar a língua dela coisa nenhuma. O homem estava claramente sendo um ba**ca e ela é quem tinha que ficar calada? Já bastava ser humilhada pela família, e agora mais aquela criatura que brotou do inferno? O homem inspirou profundamente, antes de se mover rapidamente. Ele segurou o braço de Vasti e a puxou para dentro do banheiro e fechou a porta. Ela sentiu as costas dela baterem na superfície de madeira e antes que pudesse reagir, lábios quentes e macios tomaram os dela. -- Oh! -- Ela soltou por reflexo. O homem prendeu as mãos dela acima da cabeça dela com apenas uma mão dele, que era imensa, enquanto a outra segurava firme na cintura de Vasti. Ela abriu os lábios com a surpresa e ele aproveitou a chance para beijá-la mais profundamente, arrancando suspiros dela. O joelho dele ficou entre as pernas dela, abrindo-as e dando a ele mais acesso ao corpo dela. Vasti não era de beijar estranhos, mas ela estava se sentindo tão bem… -- Ei! Vasti? -- Uma batida na porta fez Vasti dar um sobressalto. O homem não a soltou de pronto, mas sim aos poucos, deixando as mãos dela descerem. -- J-já vou! -- Vasti gaguejou. Os lábios dela estavam levemente inchados e a respiração entre-cortada -- Me dá um minuto! Eu já vou sair! -- Ok… -- E o barulho do salto de Fernanda se afastando foi ouvido. Vasti olhou para o homem. Ele estava com o cabelo impecável, o rosto próximo ao dela e os lábios meio abertos. Ele deu um sorriso. -- É melhor você ir pra casa, ou vai acabar se atrasando, amanhã -- Ele falou com a voz rouca. -- Atrasar? -- Vasti perguntou, temendo que o cérebro dela ainda não tivesse voltado a funcionar direito. -- Claro. Você é a minha secretária substituta -- Ele falou e deu um beijo rápido no pescoço dela, fazendo com que Vasti suspirasse -- Eu não gosto de atrasos. Ele deu um passo para trás e, segurando na cintura dela, ele a colocou para o lado, a fim de que pudesse abrir a porta. O belo homem deu uma piscada e saiu porta afora, deixando Vasti ainda desnorteada. As pernas dela pareciam feitas de gelatina, mas ela conseguiu sair do banheiro e ir para a mesa onde Fernanda e Will estavam. -- Caramba! O que aconteceu? -- Fernanda perguntou, até que percebeu o estado da amiga. As luzes do local acabaram disfarçando, mas assim que Vasti se aproximou um pouco mais, ela viu. Os l**ios inchados e vermelhos, sem batom, os cabelos bagunçados e a roupa desalinhada. Will também notou e segurou o riso. -- Sua safada! -- Fernanda falou. Mas Vasti não respondeu nada. Ela parecia meio assustada. O sorriso de Fernanda morreu -- Pera aí… Alguém forçou você a alguma coisa? Fernanda se levantou rapidamente, como uma leoa pronta para proteger a cria e olhou em volta. -- Ah, não. Eu... Eu tenho que ir. -- O quê? Por quê? -- Fernanda perguntou. -- Eu não posso me atrasar amanhã. Fernanda olhou para Will. -- Do que você tá falando? -- Pelo visto, eu consegui o meu emprego de volta. Vasti pegou uma nota de dinheiro da bolsa, colocou em cima da mesa, deu um beijo no rosto de Fernanda, que não sabia o que dizer e se foi. Ela apenas deu uma acenada para Will, que correspondeu. -- Sua amiga é maluquinha. -- Eu vou descobrir o que rolou -- Fernanda disse -- Amanhã. Agora, você e eu vamos nos divertir um pouquinho. Vasti saiu da boate e só então se deu conta de que nem sequer havia usado o sanitário. "Excelente! Espero que o táxi não demore…", ela falou para si mesma. -- Uma mulher como você, a essas horas e sozinha… É um tanto quanto perigoso, não é? -- A voz profunda do homem a pegou de surpresa, mas ela se virou devagar para encará-lo. Capítulo 2 Espairecer -- O que você quer? -- Ela perguntou deixando claro que estava sem paciência. -- Isso é jeito de falar com o seu chefe? -- Ele sorriu de lado e abriu a porta do carro -- Entre. Vasti soltou uma risada de zombaria. -- Ah, sim. Claro -- ela falou e puxou o celular dela para pedir um táxi, ignorando o que ele falou sobre ser o chefe dela. -- Entre -- Ele falou novamente, porém mais firme -- Eu falo sério quando digo que aqui é perigoso. -- Muito obrigada, mas isso não é da sua conta. Além disso, você me parece perigoso, também. Não te conheço! Ela falou, seca. Depois do que eles tinham feito no banheiro, entrar em um carro com ele, apenas os dois, não parecia a Vasti a melhor das opções. "Ele é uma t**tação e eu não posso deixar esse p**ife tirar proveito de mim assim!". Ele se aproximou dela e cobriu a mão dela que segurava o celular, mas delicadamente. -- Por favor -- Ele pediu e olhou para ela com o rosto sério -- Vou me comportar. Vasti olhou para ele e para o carro, depois, para a rua. O local era muito movimentado durante o dia, mas não pela noite. E ela sabia disso. O local estava, de fato, meio vazio. Seria burrice ficar ali sozinha. Além disso, havia câmeras ali… Ele não faria nada de errado, certo? Saberiam que foi ele. -- Ok -- Ela finalmente aceitou. Vasti passou pelo homem e entrou no banco do passageiro. Ele fechou a porta para ela e ela atracou o cinto de segurança, esperando que ele entrasse no veículo. Ela não entendia de carros, mas aquele era carro de gente rica, com certeza. Os bancos de couro e o painel cheio de botões touch, além de uma tela de bordo. Ele entrou, cumpriu com os requisitos antes de iniciar a jornada e ligou o carro. Após uns minutos, ele, sem olhar para ela, falou. -- Você é bem rebelde, não é? -- Como assim? Por que diz isso? -- Ela perguntou, curiosa. -- Pela forma como você me respondeu. Não só na sua recusa de agora, mas mais cedo, no banheiro. Ao ouvir a menção do cômodo da b**te, ela corou e olhou para as mãos, mas logo olhou para frente. Ela não demonstraria fraqueza. -- Isso não foi rebeldia -- ela respondeu tranquilamente -- Apenas me defendi. E, na minha recusa, eu não fui rebelde. Não é como se eu devesse obediência a você. -- Ao senhor -- Ele a corrigiu. -- Não estamos no trabalho. "Você". Ele riu. -- Como eu disse, rebelde. Vasti olhou pela janela e viu que estavam perto da vizinhança dela e só então ela se deu conta de algo. -- Ah… Eu não falei onde moro. -- Não precisa -- Ele respondeu, rapidamente, como se aquilo não fosse nada de mais. -- Como não? Vai ficar rodando à toa? -- Eu sei onde você mora, Senhorita Vasti Phillips. Ele lançou um olhar rápido a ela, antes de estacionar perto do prédio dela. Ela o olhou, surpresa. Ele a chamou pelo nome e ela ainda não sabia o nome dele. -- Por que você sabe meu endereço? -- Ela perguntou, pausadamente, sentindo o pânico se instalando dentro dela. -- Você é minha funcionária. Seus dados estão no RH. Ela o olhou, incrédula e apertou os olhos. -- Então, o senhor está me dizendo que sabe o endereço de todos os funcionários que são subordinados ao senhor? Impressionante -- É claro que ela estava sendo sarcástica. O homem se libertou do cinto de segurança e se virou para ela. -- Só dos que me interessam. O olhar dele era, novamente, muito profundo. Ele não desviou os olhos dos dela, mas foi como se ele a estivesse d**pindo, ali mesmo. -- Obrigada pela carona, Sr…? - Ela falou, dando a deixa. -- Boa noite, senhorita Phillips -- Ele repetiu e a olhou seriamente. Ele entendeu muito bem o que ela quis dizer, mas simplesmente a ignorou. Ela deveria saber o nome dele. Ele era o chefe dela. Era, inclusive, ofensivo para ele que a funcionária desconhecesse tal dado. -- Seu nome? Por favor -- Ela insistiu. Vasti sabia que o dono da empresa era o Sr. MacGyver. Porém, ela não sabia o nome daquele homem, ainda que ele trabalhasse no mesmo andar que ela e, aparentemente, fosse um dos superiores. -- Você sabe qual o meu cargo na empresa? -- Na verdade, não. Eu não sei quem é você, além de ser o homem que demitiu e, depois, me disse que eu teria o emprego de volta. Por sinal, como fará isso? Falou com o Senhor MacGyver tão rapidamente a essas horas? Ele se aproximou mais dela e sussurrou no ouvido de Vasti. -- Adônis -- Ele olhou para ela e piscou -- Adônis MacGyver, o Presidente da empresa. O hálito quente dele, a respiração, a fizeram fechar os olhos e suspirar. Ela se recriminou por isso. "Ah, meu Deus… O próprio diabo! Calma, Vasti, calma!" -- Boa noite -- ela sussurrou, colocando a mão na maçaneta da porta do carro, mas ele a parou, segurando-a. -- Eu vou ensinar modos a você, mocinha. É "Boa noite, senhor" -- Ele afastou o rosto e a encarou -- Você vai aprender. Dando um selinho nos lábios dela, ele permitiu que ela abrisse a porta. Vasti saiu do veículo com as pernas bambas. -- E Senhorita Phillips? -- Ele a chamou, fazendo com que ela se virasse -- Lilás! Ele disse, subiu o vidro da janela do carro e se foi. Ela ainda ficou ali, olhando para a estrada, mesmo após o carro já ter sumido. -- Maluco! O que ele quis dizer com "Lilás?" Dentro do carro, Adônis sorria. "Muito bem, ela quer brincar? Vamos brincar", ele falou para si mesmo. "Ela é linda demais! Talvez…" E eu vou dominar você do jeito que você merece... ...... O que acontecerá a seguir? O número de capítulos exibidos aqui é limitado. Por favor, clique no botão abaixo para baixar nosso aplicativo e ler mais capítulos. (Ao abrir o aplicativo, você irá automaticamente para este livro.) &5&		Lera reading		3170	https://www.facebook.com/61550764321146/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656669	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 4:55 PM	1735691948	1749592519		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656640	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 5:57 PM	1735691948	1749596268		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656595	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 7:42 PM	1735691947	1749602570		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467764259_1079457820306065_9044113301720336116_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xGcdiu6kSQcQ7kNvgFNCybb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDEc06GQxKMrGrDfyOmqzd8cWmxg54APbWWi2lCx4kd6g&oe=677A6BBD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		New world publications		3781	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656550	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 7:57 PM	1735691946	1749603455		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656706	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 5:18 PM	1735691949	1749593916		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XhQmwr05aGcQ7kNvgHQbvMH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDXlm9YcMpbe8R-tXH93kTSsbfiJt11V_RhjVlufTPybw&oe=677A7488	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656555	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 5:28 PM	1735691946	1749594509		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656422	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 9:47 PM	1735691943	1749610063		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656556	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 10:29 PM	1735691946	1749612578		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656499	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 12:24 AM	1735691945	1749619466		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471333202_948719976684588_8228971254787601905_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=EM6i_wGpfeYQ7kNvgEOwslt&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYA0vj8XD5L5mzhewu2RvLhWsFdHBJwU6v6gjiexqjSxdQ&oe=677A7149	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656767	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 1:45 AM	1735691950	1749624318		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656419	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 11:49 PM	1735691943	1749617344		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656498	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 12:40 AM	1735691945	1749274826		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656493	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 1:43 AM	1735691945	1749278617		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656785	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 4:13 AM	1735691950	1749633235		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468200226_8863044273756961_6312928078787021587_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0DWzPa6X-fgQ7kNvgFr2CIo&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYCC-uMD1IEJdb-d5QooLPIwh5qU75q3zHd0RoB7W8lP8w&oe=677A7584	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2656789	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 5:33 AM	1735691950	1749638007		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656421	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 10:15 AM	1735691943	1749654936		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656810	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 12:50 PM	1735691951	1749664245		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBghTC_-ZAyCm726ul_FwOaF4adxdq2NPTxCPjDeZ2PWg&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656854	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 1:06 PM	1735691952	1749665162		2174																										fbweb.lera.mobi	Learn more			VIDEO	Continuar lendo👉👉👉		https://fbweb.lera.mobi/12928409-fb_contact-pta220_2-241011-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=241242718481731&rawadid=120216855554450663			1.1921889460562E+14	Lera reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471452917_1138640664529414_8333567418563234816_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=KAW5-R0Lg_YQ7kNvgEjr25t&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYBsPJLct6sswTTfNcCJa5__4GF-HCMcB0XA59PqLuSHLw&oe=677A4393	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Joelle Miller examinou com atenção o feed do Twitter de Rebecca Lloyd, estudando cada vídeo com um olhar atento. Ela descobriu que em ocasiões marcantes, como a véspera de Natal, o Dia dos Namorados e até mesmo seu aniversário, Rebecca estava com Adrian Miller, seu suposto marido. Para Adrian, ela não passava de uma mulher maligna que arruinou seu relacionamento com Rebecca... Ela observou em silêncio os braços entrelaçados deles, que provocaram inveja em muitos. Que casal perfeito! O pensamento golpeou Joelle como uma faca e, num instante, ela teve a sensação de que estava segurando vela. Agora, olhando para trás, Joelle percebeu o quão ingênua tinha sido. Que patético! "Quero o divórcio, Adrian!" &9&		Lera reading		3170	https://www.facebook.com/61550764321146/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656457	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 12:24 PM	1735691944	1749662648		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2656921	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 1:25 PM	1735691954	1749666330		2174																											Contact us			IMAGE	☑️ Wire Fencing (Longview Delivery Saturday January 4th)		https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/2084561641981674/			1.175878829712E+14	Clint Thornton		REGULAR_PAGE	1					1		☑️ Wire Fencing (Longview Delivery Saturday January 4th) - $1.00 I will be meeting customers Saturday January 4th, at 9am in the Home Depot parking lot (580 7th Ave, Longview, WA 98632). Delivery is free to that location. I only bring products that customers ask for, I do not bring anything extra. I’m also available if you want pick up from my location near The Dalles Oregon. Please contact me to set up a time for pick up. Also meeting at the following locations: -Chehalis Saturday January 4th, at 10:30am (Walmart: 1601 NW Louisiana Ave, Chehalis, WA 98532) -Lacey Saturday January 4th, at 12pm in the Target parking lot (665 Sleater Kinney Rd SE, Lacey, WA 98503) WEBSITE: www.nwfarmfencingsupply.com FIELD FENCE 39" Field Fence Heavy Duty 330ft Long $199 4ft. Field Fence 330ft long Light Duty $179 Heavy Duty $215 5ft. Field Fence 330ft long Light Duty $199 Heavy Duty $279 4ft. Sheep/Goat Fence $279 330ft long 5ft. Sheep/Goat Fence $325 330ft long NO CLIMB FENCING 4ft. No Climb Fence Light Duty 100ft long $119 Light Duty 200ft long $249 Heavy Duty 100ft long $169 Heavy Duty 200ft long $339 5ft. No Climb Fence Light Duty 100ft long $169 Light Duty 200ft long $325 Heavy Duty 100ft long $209 Heavy Duty 200ft long $419 6ft. No Climb Fence Light Duty 100ft long $199 Heavy Duty 100ft long $249 DEER FENCING 6.5ft. High Tensile Deer Fence 165ft long $179 330ft long $359 8ft. High Tensile Deer/Game Fence 165ft long $229 WELDED WIRE FENCING 30" Rabbit Wire Heavy Duty (1"x1" holes) 100ft- $150 4.5ft. Stucco/Chicken Wire -100ft long $89 4ft. Welded Mesh 100ft long Light duty $89 Heavy Duty $125 5ft. Welded Mesh 100ft long Light Duty $119 Heavy Duty $159 6ft Welded Mesh 100ft long Light Duty $149 Heavy Duty $179 BARBWIRE Barbed Wire 1320ft long (12.5 Gauge) $99 Barbless Wire 1320ft long (double strand 12.5 Gauge) $89 SHEEP & GOAT PANELS 7ft Goat/Sheep Mesh Panel (7' long x 4'6" tall) $89 7' Goat/Sheep Walk-Through Gate (gate opening 6'6" tall x 4' wide) $169 SHEEP/GOAT FEEDER 4' Sheep/Goat Feeder (4' long x 3'3" tall) $249 FARM GATES (2” X 4” Mesh) 4' Mesh Gate - $119 6' Mesh Gate - $129 8' Mesh Gate - $169 10' Mesh Gate - $189 12' Mesh Gate - $209 14' Mesh Gate - $249 16' Mesh Gate - $269 Alpaca, cattle, pig, gates, panel, ranch, equipment, fence, fencing, horse, round, pen, stalls, farm, goat, stable, gate, corral, animal, dog, lamb, sheep, game, elk, deer, bear, chicken, hen, wire, roll, coup, post, wood, cow, colt, tack, gate. Facebook Marketplace		Clint Thornton		0	https://www.facebook.com/Clint-Thornton-117587882971202/	0		CONTACT_US								View Edit Delete
2656701	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 5:45 PM	1735691949	1749681944		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656880	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 10:13 PM	1735691952	1749697989		2174																										fbweb.lera.mobi	Learn more			VIDEO	Continuar lendo👉👉👉		https://fbweb.lera.mobi/12928409-fb_contact-pta220_2-241011-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=241242718481731&rawadid=120216855546280663			1.1921889460562E+14	Lera reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471621407_9802176473143857_8225724152065247334_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mXsg4cLn_1UQ7kNvgE_yzLL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYB5HSRwHIvTB0DIGf1cM11IfLDpvb1x_Ie4XwmGFHkFVQ&oe=677A7300	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Joelle Miller examinou com atenção o feed do Twitter de Rebecca Lloyd, estudando cada vídeo com um olhar atento. Ela descobriu que em ocasiões marcantes, como a véspera de Natal, o Dia dos Namorados e até mesmo seu aniversário, Rebecca estava com Adrian Miller, seu suposto marido. Para Adrian, ela não passava de uma mulher maligna que arruinou seu relacionamento com Rebecca... Ela observou em silêncio os braços entrelaçados deles, que provocaram inveja em muitos. Que casal perfeito! O pensamento golpeou Joelle como uma faca e, num instante, ela teve a sensação de que estava segurando vela. Agora, olhando para trás, Joelle percebeu o quão ingênua tinha sido. Que patético! "Quero o divórcio, Adrian!" &9&		Lera reading		3170	https://www.facebook.com/61550764321146/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656705	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 3:27 AM	1735691949	1749284836		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XhQmwr05aGcQ7kNvgHQbvMH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDXlm9YcMpbe8R-tXH93kTSsbfiJt11V_RhjVlufTPybw&oe=677A7488	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656813	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 10:25 PM	1735691951	1749698746		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBghTC_-ZAyCm726ul_FwOaF4adxdq2NPTxCPjDeZ2PWg&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656575	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 10:35 PM	1735691947	1749699303		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656513	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 4:24 AM	1735691945	1749288275		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656477	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 3:46 AM	1735691944	1749285969		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			IMAGE	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470193561_548974101286184_6285608318089522187_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LVJN66Eo_I0Q7kNvgGvkpvO&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYBlR02AhAARG7VKcCRgVne1BQzWr8a4_JlUMSckxe62oA&oe=677A6025	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656447	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 4:20 AM	1735691944	1749288020		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656567	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 3:18 AM	1735691946	1749284294		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656615	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 4:18 AM	1735691947	1749287896		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656878	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 11:50 PM	1735691952	1749271807		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	계속 읽기👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65152436-fb_contact-kra210_2-1203-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1085029615921206&jump=1&rawadid=120213598978930274			4.6757881642794E+14	Happy reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469121724_1121901712651908_4552733564983120531_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=p22BcdG4Z5EQ7kNvgE0eOQ_&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYCYlsXQjzWYlImn1MPoWiGfUjKzHVi7ZRoHYpOltuPAVQ&oe=677A4D7E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		남편의 배신을 받게 되었다. 모든 사람들이 그녀의 불행을 비웃었지만 누가 알았으랴. 고졸도 하지 못한 그녀의 정체는 최고의 해커이자 일류 레이서에 세계적으로 유명한 의학교수였으며 유명한 보석 디자이너인 것이다. ===== "얼른 이혼 서류에 서명하고 고씨 가문에서 나가! 시우는 회사 일 때문에 바빠. 너한테 낭비할 시간이 없는 애라고!" 고영서가 짜증을 냈다. 예단의 발치에 서류 하나가 툭 떨어졌다. 서류 아래쪽의 서명이 한눈에 들어왔다. 고시우. "시우 씨는 어디 있죠? 왜 시우 씨가 직접 와서 말하지는 않는 거예요?" 예단이 물었다. 고영서는 마치 예단이 터무니없는 질문을 한다는 듯이 코웃음을 쳤다. "내 동생이 너 같은 애한테 신경 쓸 시간이 있는 줄 알아?" 고영서는 예단을 머리부터 발끝까지 훑어봤다. 예단의 아름다운 외모는 부정할 수 없었다. 고영서조차도 예단을 처음에 보고 감탄할 정도였으니 말이다. 하지만 예단의 아름다운 외모는 언제나 가려져 있었다. 그녀의 숱 많은 앞머리와 큰 검은 뿔테 안경에 그녀의 조그마한 얼굴이 거의 가려졌고, 늘 헐렁한 운동복을 입고 있어서 균형 잡힌 몸매를 완전히 감춰 버렸다. 고영서는 예단을 집안일 밖에 할 줄 모르는 주부일 뿐이라고 생각했다. 예단은 입술을 깨물더니 갑자기 웃음을 터드렸다. "일 하느라 바쁜 거예요? 아니면 하지우 씨와 시간 보내느라 바쁜 거예요?" 예단이 씁쓸하게 말했다. 고시우가 10년 동안 사랑한 여자 하지우! 3년간의 위태로운 결혼 생활 동안 먹구름마냥 그림자를 드리우고 있었다. 그 당시, 하지우가 결혼을 앞두고 사라져버린 탓에, 고씨 가문은 A시의 웃음거리가 될 뻔했다. 예단은 고시우의 할아버지 고필두와 했던 약속을 지키고, 어린 시절 고시우에게 진 빚을 갚기 위해 망설임 없이 고시우와 결혼했다. 예단은 은혜를 갚기 위해 자신의 정체를 숨기고 자신의 모든 것을 남편과 고씨 집안에 헌신했다. 고씨 가문에 시집온 이후, 예단은 시부모님을 잘 모셨고, 고영서를 열심히 도왔다. 돈을 흥정망정 쓰는 고영서는 돈이 부족할 때마다 예단에게 도움을 요청하곤 했다. 고영서가 남편에게 폭행 당할 때마다 고씨 가문 사람들은 자신들에게 부정적인 영향을 미칠까 봐 늘 모르는 척했다. 예단이 도와주지 않았다면 고영서는 어떤 험한 일을 당했을지 몰랐고, 순조롭게 이혼할 수도 없었을 것이다. '이제 와서 날 무시하고 잘난 척을 해!' 이혼 합의서의 조건을 살펴보던 예단은 갑자기 서류를 닫고 테이블 위에 내려놓았다. "이혼은 동의하겠지만, 시우 씨 재산의 절반은 나에게 줘야 해요." 놀라 눈을 크게 뜬 고영서는 테이블을 내리치며 벌떡 일어섰다. "꿈 깨! 고씨 가문에 시집 오면 네 팔자가 필 거라고 생각했나 보지? 넌 한 푼도 못 받고 나가게 될 거야!" 예단은 차분하게 앞치마를 벗고 헐렁한 홈웨어의 지퍼를 내렸다. 그러자 몸매가 돋보이는 매끈한 상의와 청바지가 드러났다. 예단은 안경을 벗고 미소를 지으며 고영서를 바라봤다. "결정은 형님이 내리는 게 아니죠. 시우 씨와 직접 얘기해 볼게요." 고영서는 촌스럽기만 하던 예단이 눈깜짝할 사이에 분위기가 확 다른 사람으로 변신하자 깜짝 놀라 잠시 말문이 막혔다. 고영서가 정신을 차렸을 때, 예단은 이미 입구로 걸어가고 있었다. "어딜 가? 당장 이리 와서 서류에 서명하지 못해!" 고영서가 소리쳤다. 분노에 사로잡힌 고영서는 서류를 움켜쥐고 멀어져가는 예단에게 던졌다. 종이가 공중에 펄럭이며 예단을 아슬아슬하게 지나쳤다. 그리고 밖으로 나가자마자 재빨리 전화를 걸었다. "고시우가 어디 있는지 알려줘." 오후 4시가 되자 코니세그 한 대가 능숙하게 교통체증을 헤치고 나가며 고속도로를 질주했다. "찾았어. 성심 대극장에 있네. GPS 설정해 놨어." 블루투스 스피커에서 약간 불안한 듯한 목소리가 흘러 나왔다. "단아, 성급하게 행동하지 마. 고시우는 그럴 가치가 없는 사람이야..." 짜증나기도 하고 우습기도 한 예단은 눈썹을 찌푸리며 말했다. "걱정 마. 내가 왜 그러겠어." "그야..." 전화 반대편에서 서희연이 반박했다. "너는 평소에는 침착한 애지만, 열 살 때 너를 구해준 사람이 고시우라는 걸 알게 된 이후로 완전히 달라졌잖아. 네 가치를 알아보지 못하는 사람 때문에 왜 자신을 희생하려는 거야? 그 사람을 위해 진짜 신분과 능력까지 숨기고... 대체 왜 그러는 건데?" "그만해!" 예단이 소리쳤다. "그 사람 때문에 그러는 거 아니야. 너, 우리 집안 상황이 지금 얼마나 복잡한지 알잖아." 서희연이 단지 그녀가 걱정돼서 하는 말이라는 걸 깨닫고 예단은 목소리를 낮췄다. "걱정 마. 그냥 이혼하려고 그러는 거니까." "뭐? 맙소사..." 서희연이 헉 소리를 냈다. 서희연이 큰 소리를 내기 전에 예단은 재빨리 전화를 끊었다. 그녀는 엑셀을 세게 밟으며 미소를 지었다. 예단은 앞을 가로막고 있던 부가티를 능숙하게 피한 다음 빠른 속도로 달려나가기 시작했다. 한편, 검은색 부가티의 뒷좌석에 앉은 남자가 차가운 목소리로 말했다. "코니세그를 따라가. 박천주에게 다음 교차로에서 저 차를 막으라고 알려." 비서는 차 속도를 높이며 떨리는 목소리로 물었다. "대표님, 저 차가 무슨 문제라도 있습니까?" 남자는 등을 기대고 입술을 살짝 벌리더니 중얼거렸다. "오랜만이야, 트라이언트." 제2화 그녀는 트라이언트 트라이언트? 운전석에 앉아 있던 온진형은 놀라 움찔했다. 수년간 언더그라운드 레이싱 랭킹 순위를 장악하며 챔피언으로 활약했던 전설적인 그 트라이언트가 저 사람이라고? 트라이언트는 3년 전에 흔적도 없이 사라지지 않았었나? 트라이언트가 왜 지금 갑자기 A시에 나타난 걸까? 게다가 세련된 코니세그의 운전자는 여성인 것 같았다. 그러나 뒷좌석에 앉은 남자가 확신을 담아 말하자 온진형은 아무 말도 하지 않았다. 그는 앞서 가는 차에 온전히 집중하며 절대 놓치지 않을 거라 결심했다. 예단은 부가티를 추월하면서 왼쪽 사이드 미러를 흘깃 보며 눈살을 찌푸렸다. 그녀는 블루투스 이어폰을 두드리며 차분하면서도 단호한 목소리로 말했다. "희연아, 위성에 접속해. 8시 방향에 부가티가 따라오고 있어. 차주를 확인해줘." 서희연은 당황했지만 재빨리 그녀의 말을 따랐다. 차주를 알아낸 그녀는 한숨을 쉬며 이어폰에 대고 말했다. "배씨 가문의 차야. 이 차 주인은... 배도훤이야!" 예단의 눈에는 놀란 기색이 역력했다. "말도 안 돼. 어떻게 아는 사이야?" 서희연이 당황한 듯 말했다. "지난달 해외 금융 중심지 울 스트리트에서 돌아왔다는 소식은 들었어. 이미 A시를 뒤집어 놓았고 오래된 가문들 사이의 권력 구도까지 바꿔놓았대." 서희연이 망설이다가 의심스러운 듯이 물었다. "너, 배씨 그룹 사람이랑 뭐... 있었어?" "야!" 예단이 블루투스 이어폰을 두드리며 체념한 듯 말했다. "아무리 나라도 그 정도로 욕심이 많지는 않아. 게다가 지난 3년 동안 나는 A시에 있었다고. 해외로 여행을 갈 때마다 흔적이 남기지 않으려고, 신분 위조까지 하면서 다녔어. 얼마나 번거로운데. 내가 배씨 그룹 사람들을 건드릴 시간이나 있었을 것 같아?" 서희연은 자신의 실수를 깨닫고 서둘러 말했다. "맞아, 이게 다 고시우 때문이야. 그 사람만 아니었어도 너는..." "됐어. 부가티의 스마트 시스템을 원격으로 해킹할 수 있을까? 지금 당장 해결하지 않으면 배도훤은 내가 현장에서 고시우를 잡는 걸 보게 될 거야." 예단은 다시 백미러를 힐끗 쳐다봤다. 부가티가 점점 더 거리를 좁히며 다가오고 있었다. "안 돼!" 서희연이 긴박한 목소리로 말했다. "수동 자동 모드 둘 다 달려있는 차야. 단순히 시스템을 중단하는 것만으로는 효과가 없다고!" 예단은 이마를 더욱 세게 찌푸리며 입을 열려는 순간 서희연이 갑자기 다급한 목소리로 말했다. "단아, 속도 늦춰! 2킬로미터 앞 교차로에서 바리케이드가 쳐져 있어!" 먼지와 잔해로 뒤섞인 안개가 걷히고 앞길이 드러나자, 예단은 짜증을 내며 말했다. "정말 멋진 광경이네." 빠른 속도로 달리던 코니세그는 곧 앞에서 뒤까지 뻗은 바리케이드에 갇혀 멈출 수밖에 없었다. 예단은 아스팔트 도로 위에서 완전히 궁지에 몰리고 말았다. 그녀의 앞에는 스포츠카 6대가, 그녀 뒤에는 부가티가 위풍당당하게 가로막고 서 있었다. 그녀는 좌석에 기대앉아 흥미롭다는 듯이 눈썹을 치켜올렸다. 선두에 있는 페라리의 운전자가 무리의 우두머리가 분명했다. 그는 예단에게 차에서 내려 대화를 나누자고 손짓했다. 그럼에도 불구하고 예단의 시선은 백미러에 비친 부가티에 고정되어 있었다. 거리가 멀어서 운전자의 얼굴이 겨우 보였다. 뒷좌석에 앉은 배도훤의 모습은 약간 가려져 있었지만, 살짝 보이는 검은 정장은 여전히 위압적인 아우라를 내뿜고 있었다. 온진형은 코니세그가 한참 동안 움직이지 않는 것을 보고 뒷좌석을 힐끗 보며 말했다. "대표님, 박천주를 시켜서 억지로 끌어내리라고 할까요?" 배도훤은 다리를 꼬고 앉아 중지 손가락에 끼워진 투르말린 반지를 무심하게 돌리며 말했다. "기다려." 배도훤은 두꺼운 차창 너머로 앞차에 탄 예단과 시선을 마주치는 듯했다. 그는 작게 웃음을 터뜨렸다. "이렇게 쉽게 잡히면 트라이언트가 아니지." 예단의 인내심이 한계에 다다랐다. 그녀는 앞쪽의 교통 상황을 살펴보았다. 상대 무리는 주저하는 듯해 보였다. 그녀를 차에서 끌어내리려고 하는 대신 서로 신호만 주고받을 뿐이었다. "희연아, 성심 대극장으로 가는 다른 길이 있어? 찾아줘." 예단이 물었다. 서희연이 손가락으로 화면 위에서 바쁘게 움직이더 걱정 어린 목소리로 말했다. "하나 있긴 한데, 이 교차로를 지나야 해. 대치 상황에서는 불가능한 거나 다름 없어!" '띵, 경로가 변경되었습니다. 소요 시간 5분 단축됩니다...' 예단은 내비게이션 시스템을 작동시킨 후, 몸을 똑바로 세우고 핸드브레이크를 조정하며 엑셀을 밟았다. 엔진의 우렁찬 소음에 그 무리의 표정이 바뀌었다. 우두머리는 뒤에 있는 부가티로부터 신호를 받은 듯 통신 시도를 중단하고 부하들을 예단 쪽으로 보냈다. 몸싸움까지 각오한 듯 비장해 보였다. 예단의 얼굴에 미소가 번졌다. 남자들이 팔 한 뼘 거리까지 다가온 순간, 그녀는 핸들을 휙 돌리며 엑셀을 밟았다. 그녀는 구경꾼들의 놀란 시선을 받으며 차량 사이로 급격하게 달려나갔다. "내가 지나갈 수 없는 길은 없지!" 전화 반대편에서 서희연이 기뻐하며 소리쳤지만, 그녀의 흥분은 곧 걱정으로 바뀌었다. "배도훤의 바리케이드를 뚫었으니, 이제 저쪽과는 원수가 된 건가?" 예단이 비웃었다. "저쪽에서 먼저 시비 걸었잖아. 그리고 적 하나 더 생긴다고 달라질 게 뭐야?" 그녀가 떠난 뒤에도 자동차 바퀴가 급격하게 턴을 하는 날카로운 소리가 한참 동안 공중에 맴돌았다. 사무실로 돌아온 박천주는 겁에 질리 얼굴로 배도훤을 마주했다. "죄송합니다, 대표님. 트라이언트를 막는 데 실패했습니다. 어떤 벌이든 달게 받겠습니다." 배도훤은 바닥부터 천장까지 닿는 커다란 창문 옆에 서서 A시를 내려다봤다. 그의 시선은 한 건물에 고정되어 있었다. "그 코니세그, 고씨 가문과 관련이 있나?" 온진형은 재빨리 태블릿을 조작하며 대답했다. "기록에 따르면 이 차는 3년 전에 구입한 것으로, 주로 고시우 씨와 그의 아버지가 사용했습니다." 온진형은 잠시 멈칫하더니 계속해서 말했다. "오늘 그 차를 몬 건 고씨우 씨의 아내, 예단이라는 사람인데... 그분이 트라이언트일 리는 없어요." 박천주가 잽싸게 온진형의 말을 가로막았다. "말도 안 돼요! 온 비서님도 그 여자가 바리케이드를 어떻게 부수는지 보셨잖아요. 그 여자가 트라이언트가 아니라면, 어떻게 그런 걸 해낼 수 있겠습니까? 트라이언트가 틀림없어요!" 계속해서 데이터를 살피던 온진형의 표정이 굳어졌다. "기록에 따르면, 예단 씨는 영화 제작사 사장의 딸로, 평범한 집안 출신입니다. 어머니는 일찍 돌아가셨고, 아버지의 재혼 후 이복 오빠와 이복 언니가 생기는 바람에 고등학교를 그만두고 다른 도시로 이사해야 했습니다. 그런 사람이 어떻게 노린산 경주에서 우승까지 거머쥔 레이서가 될 수 있었을까요?" 말문이 막힌 박천주는 본능적으로 배도훤에게로 시선을 돌렸다. 키가 훤칠한 배도훤은 존재 자체만으로도 압도적인 존재감을 드러내고 있었다. 배도훤은 무심히 파텍 필립 시계를 만지작거리며 뜬금없이 웃음을 터뜨렸다. 그의 갑작스런 웃음에 곁에 있던 두 사람은 몸이 오싹해났다. "다음 주의 자선 파티에 고씨 가문을 초대해." 코니세그는 성심 대극장 문 밖에서 끼익 소리를 내며 멈췄다. 세련되고 섹시한 옷을 입고 코니세그에서 내려 먼지가 자욱한 길을 걸어오는 예단의 모습은 더 이상 고시우가 알고 있던 보수적인 주부가 아니었다. 고시우가 짜증을 내며 어두워진 표정으로 소리쳤다. "예단..." 예단은 장난기 가득하면서도 위협적인 미소를 짓더니 자동차 열쇠를 가볍게 흔들며 고시우를 향해 다가갔다. "위대한 고 대표님은 내연녀 콘서트 보러 갈 시간은 있으면서 이혼할 시간은 없으신가 봐요. 그래서 내가 직접 이혼 서류를 들고 왔죠." 변함없이 하지우를 감싸고 도는 고시우의 모습에 예단은 조금 씁쓸해졌다. 예단이 선언했다. "고시우, 그렇게 사랑하는 사람 곁에 있고 싶으면, 이혼 서류에 서명하고 재산을 똑같이 나누도록 하자. 하지만 단 한 푼이라도 적게 주면 이혼에 동의하지 않을 거야. 그렇게 되면 당신과 당신의 연인은 평생을 불륜이라는 말을 들으며 살 수 밖에 없게 되겠지." 제3화 내 비참한 결혼 생활과 함께 침몰했어 고시우는 평소에 순종적이고 다루기 쉬운 아내가 이렇게 변할 줄은 전혀 예상하지 못했다. "꿈 깨!" 고시우가 짜증을 내며 어두워진 표정으로 소리쳤다. "그만해, 예단. 내 관심을 끌기 위해서 이런 짓을 하는 거라면 이제 그만 둬." 그가 경고하는 듯한 눈빛으로 말했다. "그럴수록 더 정이 떨어질 뿐이라고." 예단은 처음으로 고시우가 자신에 대해 잘 아는 듯이 제멋대로 말하자 흥미를 느꼈다. "돈 얘기하는데 감정 얘기는 왜 꺼내? 역겹지도 않아?" 예단은 두 사람을 향해 싱긋 웃으며 고시우를 향해 날카롭게 말했다. "하지우 씨가 그렇게 좋았으면 따라서 해외로 가버리지 그랬어? 왜 나와 결혼한 거야? 그 정도로 사랑이 깊지는 않았나 보지?" 그녀의 말에 정곡을 찔린 고시우가 재빨리 대답했다. "할아버지가 고씨 그룹을 이용해 나를 협박했던 거 알잖아. 그렇지 않고서야 내가 지우가 떠나는 걸 가만히 앉아서 지켜봤을 리가..." "그러니까, 돈 때문이라는 거잖아?" 예단이 날카롭게 반박했다. "그럼 그 진정한 사랑이라는 것도 고씨 가문의 재산 상속 앞에서는 아무것도 아닌 거네?" 예단이 조롱하듯이 웃었다. "고시우 씨, 사랑 밖에 모르는 치정남인 척 좀 그만해!" 모두의 앞에서 자신의 속셈이 밝혀지자, 고시우의 얼굴이 벌겋게 달아올랐다. 그때 하지우가 나서 사려 깊은 목소리로 재빨리 그를 변호하기 시작했다. "예단 씨, 시우 씨와 내 사이를 그렇게 틀어놔야겠어요? 시우 씨도 시우 씨 나름대로의 이유가 있었을 거예요." 그러면서 하지우는 의미심장하면서도 도발적인 눈빛으로 예단을 마주봤다. "예단 씨, 재산 분할에서 더 많은 이득을 보기 위해 나와 시우 씨의 관계를 이간질하려는 거 다 알아요. 애초에 예단 씨는 돈을 목적으로 결혼한 거잖아요?" 그녀의 말에 예단에 대한 고시우의 혐오감은 더욱 커졌다. "그럴 줄 알았어! 당신은 언제나 욕심이 많았지. 이미 2억 송금했고, 그 아우디도 곧 당신 명의가 될 거야. 고씨 가문에게 그런 것쯤은 쉽게 해낼 수 있는 일이야. 당신네 가족처럼 하찮은 집안이 아니니까..." "그 정도로는 안 되지!" 예단은 고시우를 바라보며 날카롭게 반박했다. "당신은 억만장자야. 우리의 공동 재산과 차, 부동산을 모두 고려하면 최소한 천 억은 줘야지. 지금 당신 누나가 준 중고 아우디로 퉁 치려고 하는 거야?" 예단의 날카로운 시선이 하지우에게로 향하자, 그녀는 본능적으로 몸을 움츠렸다. "내가 잘못 본 게 아니라면, 당신 애인이 하고 있는 목걸이 가격이 최소 2억이 되지 않나?" 고시우는 하지우의 앞을 막아서며 말했다. "예단, 부끄러운 줄도 몰라? 지우의 목걸이는 내가 선물한 거야. 돈밖에 모르는 당신과는 달리 순수하고 착한 여자라고!" 예단은 고개를 끄덕이며 반박했다. "그러니까, 돈 주기 싫다 이거지, 지금?" 그 말과 함께 그녀는 돌아서서 코니세그에 다시 올라탔다. 모두가 그녀의 행동에 의아해하며 지켜보고 있을 때, 스포츠카 엔진의 굉음이 공기를 가르며 울려퍼졌다. 매끈한 검은색 슈퍼카가 날쌘 화살처럼 앞으로 달려나가며, 텅 빈 계단을 따라 내려가 무대로 곧장 돌진했다. "쾅!" 방심하고 있던 고시우와 하지우는 흩날리는 나무 파편을 덮어 쓰고 말았다. 하지우는 날카로운 비명을 질렀고, 고시우는 분노가 치밀어 올라 소리쳤다. "예단, 한 번만 더 이러면 가만히 두지 않을..." 하지만 예단은 그의 충고를 완전히 무시했다. 그녀는 차를 후진하며 무대와의 안전 거리를 두고 멈춰 세웠다. "고시우 씨, 다시 한 번 물을게. 재산 분할 할 거야, 말 거야?" 그녀가 긴장이 팽팽한 분위기를 뚫고 소리쳤다. 엔진의 굉음에 고시우의 얼굴이 새하얗게 질렸다. 위협적인 차와 어마어마한 예단의 존재감에 짓눌린 그는 미처 탈출할 생각조차 못하고 제자리에 얼어붙었다. 그는 경비를 부르려고 했지만, 경비원과 사람들은 모두 겁에 질려 도망가고 없었다. 이 대치 상황에서는 세 사람만이 남아 있었다. 예단, 완전히 미쳐버렸네! 예단은 겁에 질린 고시우와 하지우의 얼굴을 보고 만족스러운 미소를 지었다. 무서운 엔진 소리가 더욱 커지더니 고시우의 공포에 질린 시선 아래서 자동차는 다시 한 번 무대를 향해 돌진했다! "알았어! 당신 말대로 재산 분할 하면 되잖아!" 차는 무대에서 몇 센티미터 떨어진 곳에서 겨우 멈췄다. 앞 범퍼가 아슬아슬하게 무대를 스칠 뻔했다. 예단은 이제 너덜너덜해진 차 문을 발로 박차고 침착하게 차에서 내려 팔짱을 낀 채 떨고 있는 두 사람을 마주보았다. 고시우는 심호흡을 하며 평정심을 되찾으려고 애썼다. "하지만 다음 주까지 기다려야 해. 이번 주말은 할아버지 생신이야. 아직은 이혼 소식을 전할 수 없어." 고필두 할아버지는 언제나 예단에게 친절했고, 그녀 역시 그의 생일을 망칠 생각은 없었다. 예단은 어깨를 으쓱하며 말했다. "오늘 약속은 꼭 지켜. 이렇게 많은 눈이 우리를 주목하는 가운데 고씨 가문의 후계자가 감히 자기가 내뱉은 말을 번복하지는 않겠지?" 그녀의 말에 반박할 수 없었던 고시우는 좌절해서 이를 악물었다. 예단은 몇 걸음 앞으로 나아가, 하지우를 지나치고 고시우에게 시선을 고정하며 가볍게 혀를 찼다. "사실, 저 차는 처음에 무대에 부딪혔을 때 벌써 망가졌어. 그냥 당신을 놀라게 하려고 엔진을 켜놓았을 뿐이야. 어차피 부딪히지도 못했을 거야." 고시우는 충격에 눈이 휘둥그래졌다. 예단은 눈썹을 치켜 올리고 비꼬듯이 말했다. "당신 같은 사람에게 그렇게 좋은 차를 허비하다니." 말이 끝난 그녀는 눈길 한 번 주지 않고 밖으로 나갔다. 고시우는 정신을 못 차리고 그 자리에 잠시 멍하니 서 있었다. 순식간에 너무 많은 일이 벌어져 받아들이는 데 시간이 필요했다. 그는 예단이 떠나는 것을 보고서야 3년 동안 평범했던 아내가 자신도 모르고 있었던 숨겨진 매력이 있을 거라는 생각이 들었다. "다 나 때문이에요, 시우 씨! 나를 보호하려 하지만 않았어도 그런 터무니없는 요구를 절대 들어주지 않았을 텐데!" 하지우는 고시우의 옷깃을 붙잡고 떨리는 목소리로 말했다. 그녀가 눈물을 보이자 고시우는 다시 그녀에게로 시선을 고정했다. 고시우는 하지우를 끌어안고 부드럽게 위로하기 시작했다. "네 탓이 아니야. 다 욕심 많은 저 여자 탓이지. 내가 방심한 틈을 타 자기가 원하는 걸 요구하다니." 하지우는 눈물을 글썽이며 그를 올려다봤다. "이제 우리 어떡해요? 당신이 오랫동안 심혈을 기울여 고씨 그룹을 경영한 덕분에 지금의 재산을 소유할 수 있게 된 건데, 저 여자는 아무것도 안 했잖아요. 그런 여자가 당신 재산의 절반을 가져가다니요?" 하지우는 입술을 깨물었다. "나는 어떤 상황에도 당신을 지지할 거예요. 하지만 이런 부당한 일이 벌어지는 걸 가만 두고 볼 수는 없어요. 시우 씨 어머니와 누님이 이 얘기를 들으면 많이 화나실 텐데요." 고시우는 코웃음을 쳤다. "우선 알겠다고는 했지만, 순순히 따라 줄 수는 없지." 아수라장이 된 극장 밖에서 예단은 서희연에게 전화를 걸었다. "성심 대극장으로 데리러 올 수 있어?" 서희연이 의아해하며 물었다. "코니세그 끌고 갔잖아?" 자신의 손을 내려다본 예단은 조금 전에 충돌 때문에 생긴 상처를 발견했다. 상처는 얕았지만 넓게 퍼져 있었고, 이제는 피가 나기 시작했다. "내 비참한 결혼 생활과 함께 침몰했어." 제4화 배씨 가문의 연회 초대장 그 한마디 말에 담긴 뜻을 이해한 서희연은 순간 숨이 멎는 듯했다. 호기심이 생긴 그녀는 재빨리 차 키를 챙겨 예단을 데리러 나갔다. 서희연이 고속도로를 따라 질주하는 페라리 안에서 믿을 수 없다는 듯이 외쳤다. "그 끔찍한 커플을 그냥 들이받지 그랬어?" 예단은 침착하게 상처를 치료하면서 대답했다. "법은 어기지 않는 편이 좋으니까." 서희연은 말문이 막혔다. 그녀는 예단이 이 대화를 꺼린다는 것을 깨닫고 재빨리 주제를 바꿨다. "아, 그 자선 연회 말이야. 너 특별 게스트로 초대받았잖아. 이번에는 갈 거지?" 예단이 대답하기도 전에 서희연이 말했다. "어차피 이혼할 거잖아. 이제 그 멍청한 고시우한테 더 이상 숨길 필요 없지 않아?" 서희연이 입을 삐죽 내밀며 덧붙였다. "이번 연회 준비하느라 얼마나 고생을 했는데. 아빠한테 좋은 인상을 주고 싶단 말이야. 너는 내 가장 친한 친구잖아. 올 거지, 응?" "알았어." 예단이 체념한 듯한 미소를 지으며 말했다. "네가 원한다면야!" 서희연은 기뻐서 신나게 경적을 울려댔다. "좋아, 내일 여섯 시 정각이야! 초동석을 입구로 보낼게!" 그녀는 아침 일정을 완벽하게 소화했고, 행사 시작 30분 전에 여유롭게 연회장에 도착했다. 예단은 진짜 정체를 숨긴데다 이전에 참석 뜻을 제대로 밝히지 않은 탓에 공식 초대장을 받지 못했다. 그래서 그녀는 입구 근처에 있는 작은 파빌리온에 앉아 커피를 마시며 초동석이 도착하기를 기다리고 있었다. 그녀가 커피를 반쯤 마셨을 때 초동석이 문자를 보내왔다. "늦어서 죄송합니다, 천재 디자이너님! 10분 안에 도착해요!" 예단이 속으로 웃으며 답장을 보내려고 하던 그 때, 비꼬는 듯한 목소리가 들려왔다. "이게 누구야, 예단 씨잖아요? 여기서 당신을 만날 줄은 몰랐네요. 시우 씨에게 위자료를 달라고 구걸하면서 배씨 가문의 연회까지 발을 들이려고 하다니. 하지만 말이죠..." 그녀의 목소리가 점점 차가워졌다. "이 연회는 당신 같은 사람이 참석할 수 있는 자리가 아니에요. 주제를 알아야지." 제5화 기어이 손을 대게 만드는 거야 예단은 멈칫하더니 천천히 고개를 들었다. 하지우가 가식적으로 걱정해주는 척 그녀를 내려다보고 있었다. 예단은 붉은 입술을 말아 올리며 날카롭게 대답했다. "당신이 무슨 상관이죠? 내가 배씨 가문 연회에 가든 말든, 당신이 알 바 아니잖아요." 하지우는 예단의 직설적인 대답에 조금 놀란 듯 눈이 동그래졌다. 예단은 등나무 의자에 기대어 앉아 무심하게 핸드폰을 톡톡 두드렸다. 그녀는 매혹적인 눈으로 하지우를 놀리듯이 쳐다봤다. 하지우는 확실히 교활했다. 누구라도 발끈할 태도와 말투를 잘 쓰는 것 같았다. "예단?" 바로 그때, 고시우가 다가왔다. 그는 예단을 여기서 볼 줄은 상상조차 못했다. 고시우가 눈살을 찌푸렸고, 그의 잘생긴 얼굴이 즉시 어두워졌다. "나를 망신시키려고 여기까지 온 거야?" 고시우는 화를 내며 소리쳤다. "그냥 좀 꺼져!" 하지우는 마치 자신의 지위를 선언하기라도 하듯 일부러 고시우의 팔을 끌어안으며 도전적인 눈빛으로 예단을 바라봤다. 예단은 그런 무례한 행동을 참고 넘어갈 사람이 아니었다. 그녀는 손가락을 꽉 움켜쥐더니 고시우를 경멸스럽다는 듯이 바라보며 차가운 미소를 지었다. "다시 말해볼래? 지금 감히 누구 보고 꺼지라는 거야?" 예단은 검은색 실크 슬립 드레스를 입고 가느다란 다리를 우아하게 꼬고 앉아 있었다. 그녀의 흠잡을 데 없는 피부와 눈길을 끄는 이목구비는 엄청난 매력을 선사했다. 그녀의 목소리는 흔들림 없이 차분했지만, 온몸에서 차가운 분위기를 내뿜고 있었다. 압박감이 급습해왔다. 고시우는 갑작스럽게 변한 분위기에 당황한 채 잠시 얼어붙었다. 이 여자가 정말로 순종적이기만 하던 그의 아내라니! 짜증이 난 하지우는 눈살을 찌푸렸다. 마지막으로 예단을 만났을 때, 하지우는 그녀가 정신이 나간 줄 알았다. 하지우는 예단이 또 다시 난동을 부려 자신이 망신 당하게 될까 봐 걱정되어 목소리를 누그러뜨리고 순진한 척 연기했다. "예단 씨, 이만 가 보세요. 초대장은 하나 밖에 없고, 시우 씨는 나를 데리고 들어가기로 했어요. 예단 씨가 여기에서 버티고 있는다고 해서 들어갈 수 있는 연회가 아니에요. 게다가 예단 씨는 문제만 일으키잖아요. 왜 자꾸 일을 어렵게 만드는 거예요?" 예단은 하지우를 차가운 시선으로 쳐다봤다. 그녀는 이미 고시우의 진짜 모습을 훤히 잘 알고 있다. 이젠 고시우에게도, 이 결혼 생활도 철저히 희망을 잃었다. 이제 하지우의 태도나 말은 그녀에게 아무런 영향을 미치지 못했다. "당신이 무슨 상관이에요?" 예단은 하지우의 말에 전혀 동요하지 않고 차분하게 대답했다. 그녀는 무심코 잔을 들어 빨대로 포도주스를 쪼르륵 마셨다. "안 가겠다, 이거야? 기어이 손을 대게 만들려는 거야!" 고시우가 소리쳤다. 예단은 고시우의 분노 폭발한 반응에 전혀 동요하지 않았고, 그를 없는 사람 취급했다. 고시우의 표정이 더욱 어두워졌다. 예단이 꼼짝도 하지 않자 짜증이 난 그는 그녀를 끌어내기 위해 한 걸음 다가섰다. 예단은 눈살을 찌푸렸다. 그녀가 몸을 움직이려던 그때, 고시우의 뒤에서 한 남자의 숨 가쁜 목소리가 들려왔다. "비켜!" 초도억은 주저하지 않고 고시우에게 달려들어 마치 장난감을 잡듯이 그의 옷깃을 움켜쥐고 옆으로 내던진 뒤, 예단의 앞을 가로막고 서서 보호 태세를 취했다. 키가 195센티미터 되는 초동석은 몸집이 건장했고, 그의 근육질 팔은 무척 힘세 보였다. "이게 뭐 하는 짓입니까?" 초동석은 고시우를 사나운 눈빛으로 쏘아보며 손가락 관절이 딱딱 소리가 날 정도로 주먹을 꽉 쥐고 말했다. "왜 우리 누나를 괴롭히는 거야? 죽고 싶어 환장했어?" "너는 누구야?" 조금 전, 쓰레기처럼 내팽개쳐졌던 고시우가 소리쳤다. 그는 비틀거리며 일어나서 성난 눈빛으로 초동석을 노려봤다. ...... 앞으로는 어떤 전개가 펼쳐질까요? 완정한 스토리를 즐기고 싶으시다면 아래의 버튼을 눌러 App을 다운로드 받으세요. (App을 오픈 시 자동으로 열독 중인 이 작품으로 스킵합니다) &9&		Happy reading		485	https://www.facebook.com/61566043183664/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656901	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 1:42 PM	1735691953	1749235334		2174																											Contact us			IMAGE	Assorted New w/ tags Precious Moments Dolls at Auction		https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/946293610380598/			1.037364343643E+14	Leah Abigail Napoleon		REGULAR_PAGE	1					1		Assorted New w/ tags Precious Moments Dolls at Auction - $5.00 First Auction of the Year Antique and Collectibles Saturday January 4th 2850 O'Neal Ave Pueblo Doors Open at 8 am Auction Starts at 9 am Cabinets at 10 am Tonkas at Noon Back Area Goes at 2 Preview Friday Jan 3rd 12-4 Everything goes at No Reserve Huge 1st Auction of the Year…Don’t Miss It!!! Antique and Collectible Auction Primitives, over 100 pre-loved toys from the 1970’s including Tonka toys, games, Big Jim, G.I. Joes, Evil Knievel, Kachina dolls, salt and pepper shakers, musical instruments, Roseville, Quality Southwest pottery, painted gourds, diecast cars, vintage wine, precious moments, hand blown art glass, perfume bottles, outdoor cement decor, taxidermy, trains, barrister bookcases, mission furniture, merry-go-round horse, Asian furniture, bedroom furniture, trunks, dolls, stained glass, vintage beer cans, big Barbies, K Jacobson art, vintage art, original Atari, fiestaware, elephant phone, vintage assorted clocks, amethyst glass collection, vintage kitchen pottery bowls, NSYNC collectible puppets, clay poker chips, vintage Legos, vintage typewriters, cast iron, collectible snoopy peanuts, vintage sports magazines, chess sets, assorted planers and hand tools, cast iron mammy, assorted, vintage sewing machines, brass torches, and railroad oiler funnels, vintage Star Wars, antique bottles, vintage fast food toys, vintage playing cards, vintage sports cards most in sleeves, sterling silverflatware set, church keys, swavorski crystals, and much more. Facebook Marketplace		Leah Abigail Napoleon		0	https://www.facebook.com/Leah-Abigail-Napoleon-103736434364297/	0		CONTACT_US								View Edit Delete
2656454	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420568		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656465	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 10:46 PM	1735691944	1749872795		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656479	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420568		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468861305_1082343766718684_3636329492503235384_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=sM2SWuOP8LEQ7kNvgH8mVnd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYAj5Y-k_g8mlVTMHO19SQnYAI0-Qos-zzuXMXYJzPhLLA&oe=677A5E86	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2656482	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420568		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470503447_3730807770515932_7034784579888290156_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CqcmvQt8930Q7kNvgFf70os&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYAYWAHcxfSl8WZ0yHEuNsvjGZGIbnTPXQwht0rKconvKg&oe=677A76DA	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656483	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420568		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656484	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420568		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656485	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 2:11 AM	1735691945	1749193876		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656486	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:13 AM	1735691945	1749366834		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656497	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 4:17 AM	1735691945	1749547060		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656518	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:55 AM	1735691945	1749369308		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656525	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:56 AM	1735691946	1749369399		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=KNfoxxyfdQYQ7kNvgEY98gl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYAIDhaRyteVODC3YHFetfKo0xjGV2NLeNkXI-SFyLGuqw&oe=677A603D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656527	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:14 AM	1735691946	1749366846		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656528	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 11:03 PM	1735691946	1749009836		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656541	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 5:10 AM	1735691946	1749895827		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656509	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 9:53 PM	1735691945	1749610422		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470561418_995607282410462_4988201966156102680_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=DwOhkFLvBjUQ7kNvgHqRu9h&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDxttgyN808Ia9fa546-kJcW7vNpmk4NW7NNUwX8rTL8Q&oe=677A45D4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2656510	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420569		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			IMAGE	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470195820_648791847503747_4400630868748044853_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=B5Nl0kwXvusQ7kNvgG1vqo2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDTFjzGStJr5H-76V61yyrc00MSJ3MSTndjq05SZJWdYg&oe=677A7851	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		その日、優子が末期がんと診断された。 その頃、夫は彼の初恋相手と一緒に「忙しかった」。 …… 「手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子の青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらいだ。すぐに入院手続きをするよ。」 「そんな必要ないわ。治療を受けるつもりはない。」 実家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 夫である峻介は何の手伝いもくれなかった。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、彼は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては峻介も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 その後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。 でも優子は――母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、もう拒否することはできなかった。 彼女は震える手で電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。 「離婚以外の話なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえながら、がんの話を切り出すことができなかった。 すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。 「峻介君、今は私たちの時間よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。優子の家族を壊した彼が、今では里美と新しい家庭を築こうとしている。 すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子は震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。 「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 そう言うと、全力で電話を切った彼女は壁にもたれかかるように座り込み、袖を噛んで声を上げずに泣いた。 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間、どんなに離婚を迫っても拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今日に限って急に同意したのだろう？ それに、彼女の声には涙の気配があった。 窓の外、大雨が叩きつけるのを見ながら、峻介は彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去り、説明する気配もなかった。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。彼の整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 かつて輝いていた優子の瞳は、その時は虚ろだった。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「お前にはまだ離婚届にサインしてくれる必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。カバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。 優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」 嘲笑を浮かべた彼の顔が、優子の視界を覆った。 かつての優子なら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今の優子はただ静かに言った。 「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。 「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。 「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。 「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。 「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子がすでに身支度を整えて出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。 「お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ！？すぐ向かいます！」 到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。手術室の前で両手を組み、祈るように待ち続ける。 彼女の唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。明細を見ると、総額は300万円以上。 以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、彼女は峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「突然離婚に応じるなんて妙だと思ったが、どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 優子は必死に説明した。「嘘なんかじゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「で、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方をする人がいるのか！？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後に。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。 かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだろう？ 優子は考え込む余裕もなく、今は父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「心配しないで、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 「ありがとうございます！」優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろし、介護人に父を任せた。 お金のために市役所に急いだが、峻介の姿はどこにもなかった。 焦る気持ちで電話をかけた。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「峻介、今すぐ離婚手続きに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待っているから……お願い、父のためにお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 雨は容赦なく降り注ぎ、バス停の標識の下でしゃがみ込む優子は、息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 家族の突然の破産が、いつも彼女を深く愛してくれた峻介を変えてしまうなんて… 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「いらっしゃいませ。この指輪ですね。お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「あります。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要がありますので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は乾いた唇を舐め、切迫した声で言った。 「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人――里美だった。		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656603	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 9:32 AM	1735691947	1749652373		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656610	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:18 AM	1735691947	1749370720		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656557	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 10:58 PM	1735691946	1749009485		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656560	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:10 AM	1735691946	1749370210		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656612	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 7:15 AM	1735691947	1749384949		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656578	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 6:10 AM	1735691947	1749553805		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYA269s4quSOiqVLx8eBkMe3YBoyyG45zlXIxHq2rCC0SQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656587	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 4:53 AM	1735691947	1749376392		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656698	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:34 AM	1735691949	1749371662		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656712	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:56 AM	1735691949	1749369405		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XhQmwr05aGcQ7kNvgHQbvMH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDXlm9YcMpbe8R-tXH93kTSsbfiJt11V_RhjVlufTPybw&oe=677A7488	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656638	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 9:08 AM	1735691948	1749391739		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656653	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 6:27 AM	1735691948	1749382073		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vVbgWEWv_80Q7kNvgE5MWAN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYBCBtKDcpID1uHaZxjCimRCGhLAeHRqh2UQBQlJSrdp2A&oe=677A7152	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656658	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 2:49 AM	1735691948	1749368957		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656662	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 8:21 AM	1735691948	1749388897		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656664	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 4:09 AM	1735691948	1749373787		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656665	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 3:55 AM	1735691948	1749372919		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656675	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691948	1748420569		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656677	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 4:59 AM	1735691948	1749463167		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656874	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691952	1748420569		2174																										fbweb.cdreader.com	Learn more			VIDEO	閱讀下一章👉		https://fbweb.cdreader.com/130853449-fb_contact-ft-p103_2-c2-1128-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=809076924536970&rawadid=120215590411180134			4.7515149567892E+14	Love reading - A	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469055973_1036937374900550_4480200942547017286_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=c1ekZedz-7gQ7kNvgFVQ2f3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYCfW8Xm03fOLUi4N-tcgJHOJF4OkyuJN2W-CcwSG1i0Lg&oe=677A482C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		她愛上拯救她的陌生男人，卻得知他竟然就是拿她父親貪污案做墊腳石上位的新任市長！血海深仇，她毅然離去，男人卻瘋了，滿城尋她求原諒！ ===== “季小姐，出來吧，你叔叔已經將你五十萬賣給我了，以後跟著我吃香喝辣，你什麼活也不用幹，只管敞開腿伺候就成。” 轟隆聲響起，暴雨傾盆而下，一道閃電劈開長夜照亮了男人肥肉橫生的猥瑣面孔，他半邊臉擠在門框上變了形，眼神卻不停往門縫裡瞄。 房間內，季靈希渾身發抖的死死抵著門。 “滾……滾啊！！”她崩潰大喊，“我有未婚夫，他不會放過你的！” “未婚夫？你是說那位許家孫少爺？”男人爆發出嘲笑，“怎麼？季小姐不會還不知道自己早已經被退婚了吧？嗤，被玩膩的破鞋，還裝什麼矜持！” 說完，他肥豬一般的龐大身軀猛然往脆弱的門上一撞！ “啊！”季靈希被突然劇震的門板嚇到後退，雙手顫抖，“退婚？不可能，不可能……” 可真的不可能嗎？ 自從一個月前，季靈希的父親被誣陷貪汙腐敗入獄，母親車禍後昏迷不醒，整個季氏家族就走向了衰亡。 鉅額家產被全部凍結清算，一夜之間，她從千金小姐變成了負債上億的乞丐。 明天她所在的這套房子也要被查封，她是來取最後的行李的，卻正好被那二叔拿捏了行蹤，居然要乘機將她賣給這將近五十歲的死肥豬男！ 眾叛親離，她徹底一無所有了！ 門外，那死肥豬男的不耐煩的聲音再次傳來：“老子可沒耐心陪你玩小兔子乖乖的開門遊戲，去！讓人把鑰匙送上來！” 他有鑰匙！ 季靈希猝然白了臉，一旦門被破開，結局可想而知。 到時候就算是被侵犯致死都沒人會來替她收屍！ 逃！ 季靈希腦海裡只剩下這一個念頭。 身後窗戶大開，狂風裹挾著暴雨入侵，溼透的窗簾翻飛，天際電蛇狂舞，雷聲轟鳴。 她含著淚一咬牙，猛地衝到了窗前。 二樓而已，摔不死！ 縱身一躍—— 在大腦都壓根沒反應過來之前，人已經滾落在了地面草坪上，渾身溼透沾著汙泥。 “嘶！”說不出到底是哪疼，總之通身都像是要摔散架一般。 “人呢？”“翻窗跑了！”聲音從二樓傳來。 季靈希立刻胡亂爬起來，逃命時腎上激素的飆升讓她爆發出無與倫比的潛力。 逃，快逃，快逃啊！ 她趁著夜色和暴雨的掩蓋，就這樣生生衝出了灌木叢生的後院，往路口奔跑而去。 與此同時，馬路盡頭一輛黑色紅旗飛馳而來，車燈射穿雨幕，照在了突然出現，試圖橫穿馬路的黑影身上！ “我去！”司機沒忍住爆了一聲粗口，猛踩剎車的同時狂打方向盤。 後座衣衫考究的斯文男人猝不及防被巨大的慣性所挾持，一腦袋撞在了前座靠背上。 “砰”一聲悶響。 司機頓時魂飛魄散，“市市……市長先生！你沒事吧！？” 男人黑著臉，“你應該問問被你撞的人有沒有事。”說完，他推門下車查看。 黑色傘面被暴雨沖刷，男人腳踩一雙高定皮鞋，踏著汙水來到昏倒在地的女人面前。 司機哭喪著臉，“我明明踩剎車了，好像沒撞到她啊？” “不是你撞的。”男人一眼看出端倪，冷笑了聲，“碰瓷？膽子倒大。” 說完，他冷漠收回目光，轉身就走。 “等等……”剛剛還“昏迷”不醒的女人突然出聲，伸出一隻髒兮兮的手，飛快地拽住了男人剪裁利落乾淨的褲腳，抬起臉虛弱道：“別走，他們在追我，求你救、救我……” 這個聲音…… 男人腳步一頓，回過頭來，漆黑的眸子居高臨下看清了車燈下那張沾著泥土的臉，瞳孔驟縮。 “這、這不是孫少爺的未婚妻嗎！是市長先生您的侄媳婦啊！”司機率先驚叫。 “呵，”男人語調嘲諷，“我侄媳婦？” 他們在說什、什麼……什麼市長媳婦的…… 季靈希眼前男人的臉早就化作重影，耳邊一片嗡嗡，逃到這裡已經耗盡了她所有的力氣，到最後也只能全憑本能的死死抓著那塊一絲一線都昂貴至極的“救命稻草”不放。 男人似乎蹲下了身，但季靈希已經徹底支撐不住，昏厥了過去。 第2章 私人醫生 再醒來是在陌生的房間，窗外是炫目的白晝。 床邊穿著白大褂的醫生正在收拾工具，見季靈希睜眼，立刻高呼：“先生，人醒了！” 男人很快推門進來，對上了床上女人一雙迷茫受驚的小鹿般的眼，眼底是深刻的防備和恐懼。 他走近床邊，“醒了？燒退了嗎？” 冰冰冷冷，有點熟悉的聲音，更熟悉的是那張面無表情的臉。 “……許先生？”季靈希認出人，瞪大眼睛，“怎麼是你？” 這個男人她認識，是她的患者。 季靈希大學一畢業就入職了京市第一人民醫院心內科，許盛廷是她接手的第一個病人。 但神奇的是，許盛廷患有的並非是任何心臟類疾病，而是應該歸屬為精神科的睡眠障礙。 他患有嚴重失眠症，入睡困難，曾有過長達一個月未合過眼，最後暈厥在辦公室的記錄，他的上一位心理醫生對他束手無措，可機緣巧合下，卻發現許盛廷對季靈希的聲音有特殊反應，能依靠她的聲音睡著！ 於是他便被轉到了季靈希名下，成為了一個“特殊”病人。 這段時間的變故讓季靈希分身乏術，醫院那邊不得已請了長假，倒是許久沒有為許盛廷催眠了。 季靈希看著男人那張過分英俊的臉，高挺的鼻樑在臉頰落下陰影，嘴唇偏薄顯得不近人情，一雙冷靜威嚴的鷹眸底下，卻掛著兩個煞風景的黑眼圈。 眼睛裡也有不少紅血絲，顯然是太久沒能休息，精神高度緊繃造成的。 “謝謝許先生救了我。”季靈希坐起身，小臉脆弱蒼白。 回想起暈倒前的一切，她沒想到豁出性命的一次“碰瓷”，居然正好碰到了熟人身上！ 不幸中的萬幸。 “不客氣，我也很慶幸沒有背上一條人命。”許盛廷確認她已經退燒後，便讓醫生離開了，自己則順勢坐在了醫生的位置上。 “抱歉……”季靈希羞愧垂眼，“我不得不那樣。” 她尷尬的雙手絞著衣角，卻突然意識到自己身上的衣服已經換了。 也是，渾身溼乎乎髒兮兮的，怎麼上床？ 可是誰給她換的？不會是…… “昨晚是讓保姆給你洗的澡，換了衣服。”許盛廷見她呆呆地盯著衣服出神，臉還越來越紅，就猜到了她在想什麼。 “謝、謝謝。”被看穿心裡所想，季靈希更羞恥了。 好在許盛廷沒再繼續計較，而是突然提起另一件事：“你是不打算回醫院了嗎？” “短時間內我可能確實回不去了。”她實話實說。 醫院的工作需要花費大量時間和全部精力，但工資對於現在的她來說卻是杯水車薪，再加上父親的冤屈還未洗刷，季靈希不能把時間全部交代在那裡。 許盛廷的表情更冷了，“那你的病人怎麼辦？半途而廢，季醫生未免太不負責。” 什麼病人，他分明就是在說他自己！ 季靈希低下頭，“如果許先生需要催眠的話，可以隨時聯繫我，能來我一定來。” 也算是報答他這次的救命之恩了。 “是嗎？可你的電話打不通，消息也一直未讀。” 季靈希一愣，想起了什麼，尷尬道：“抱歉，我的手機不久前壞了……”被那群追債的砸了，還沒來得及買新的。 許盛廷皺了皺眉，顯然也想到了現下季靈希的狼狽，他沒有多問，只是叫了人進來吩咐了什麼，很快那人出去又進來，手裡多了一部手機。 許盛廷把手機交給季靈希，“以後用這個聯繫。” “啊？”怎麼能平白無故拿人家東西，季靈希第一反應是拒絕。 卻被許盛廷制止，“先別急著拒絕，我還有一份合約要和你商議。” “什麼合約？” “首先，我願意每月支付你五十萬。” 什麼？ 季靈希睜大眼睛看他，一臉震驚。 隨即她意識到什麼，驀地扯過被子將自己裹緊，只露出一雙警惕的眼睛。 悶悶的聲音隔著棉被傳來：“許先生，我不賣身的。” 看著他正派的眉眼和楚楚的衣冠，季靈希心道，沒想到也只是個人模狗樣的男人。 許盛廷沉默了會兒，突然莫名笑了下，“是嗎？加錢也不可以嗎，只需要每晚……” 伴隨著他越來越露骨的發言，季靈希炸毛一般，“當然不可以！” “只需要每晚給我催眠。”男人徐徐補充完整。 季靈希僵住。 “季醫生想到哪裡去了？”許盛廷看著她羞恥的眼，語氣揶揄，“我只是想聘請你做我的私人醫生而已，畢竟你是這個世界上唯一能讓我睡著的人。” 簽合同的時候，季靈希的臉還因為尷尬發著紅。 但同時她也感到難以置信，許先生居然真的開了月薪五十萬聘請她做私人醫生，而她的工作僅僅是每晚來給他催眠而已，這簡直是天上掉餡餅的事情。 諷刺的是，五十萬，正是那個劉總要買走她的價格。 “謝謝許先生。”季靈希抱著新手機，眼睛亮亮的看著他。 看著她紅撲撲的臉頰，男人眼神一暗，隨即移開目光，“嗯，晚上記得準時到，現在是休息還是離開，都隨意。” 季靈希立刻侷促道：“我很快就走。” “……嗯。” 季靈希出了門，才發現這裡是郊區的一棟私人別墅，私密性很強，和許先生這個人一樣神秘。 神秘到即使作為主治醫師為他治療了三個月，季靈希還是不清楚他的身份，只知道他忙碌且富有，應該是個成功人士。 她用新手機登入了自己的社交賬號，很快彈出一大堆未讀消息。 其中有個紅色的頭像格外醒目，是她的未婚夫許家榮，季家出事後，季靈希一直沒能聯繫上他。 現在他卻發來：靈希，明天下午三點，盛輝酒店1306見。 是昨天的消息。 第3章 一夜給你一萬 距離三點還有一個小時，季靈希看一下地圖，從這裡打車過去剛好來得及。 要去嗎？她心裡突突的跳。 昨天那個死肥豬男的話還歷歷在耳，他說許家早就退婚了。 可季靈希壓根沒收到通知，因此就算許家榮裝死了一個月，她還一直自欺欺人般抱著期待。 季家尚且衰亡，萬一許家也遇到了麻煩呢？或者是擔心受到牽連，等這陣子風頭過了，他就會聯繫她了呢？ 季家和許家在爺爺輩曾是世交，季靈希和許家榮更是自小就定下了娃娃親，兩人青梅竹馬，感情一度是甜蜜的，季靈希在心裡確實曾真心把他當做未來丈夫。 因此還懷揣著天真的期待和信任。 她最終叫了個網約車出發了。 無論退婚一事是真是假，她如今孤立無援，身負鉅債，即使是最後一點希望也要把握！ 網約車上，司機播放著時政廣播，主持人正在播報京市新任市長，是如何新官上任三把火，頒佈了不少利民新政策不說，還抓了一大批貪官汙吏，其中能源部部長季祥和，更是被舉報貪汙公款高達十個億，舉國震驚。 季靈希緊緊咬著唇，眼眶泛紅。 是新市長抓了父親。 說起來，之前她昏迷前，好像是隱隱約約聽到了什麼市長什麼媳婦之類的。 可當時深夜荒涼，周圍只有一輛車上有活人，大概高燒產生的錯覺吧。 如果能見到那位市長就好了，她真的很想瞭解清楚父親貪汙案件的始末，想知道那些所謂確鑿的證據都是從何而來。 她是父親的女兒，最清楚父親的人品，他是絕對做不出貪汙公款這種事情的！ 但以她現在的身份，想見那位市長一面，恐怕難如登天。 車停在了盛輝酒店門口，季靈希下車後，按照門牌號很快來到約定地點。 房門沒有關嚴，應該是許家榮已經到了，在等她。 季靈希沒多想，直接推開了門。 房間裡卻一片漆黑。 難道許家榮還沒到？ 季靈希略有疑惑，一邊往裡走一邊摸索開關。 突然她伸出的手腕被猛地攥住。 有人！ 季靈希猝然睜大眼，驚叫還沒來的及喊出口，就被捂住口鼻，強制拉進了一個光裸的懷抱。 “唔唔唔！”她拼命掙扎，卻完全敵不過對方的力氣，心裡驚懼一片。 “啪！”燈被打開了。 季靈希看清了來人，赫然是許家榮！ 對上她難以置信的眼，許家榮獰笑一聲，砰的把門踢上，緊接著把季靈希按在了牆上。 “靈希，我好想你。”許家榮緊貼著她身體，灼熱的鼻息噴灑在季靈希的脖子上，讓她渾身發毛。 她抗拒的推著他，“許家榮，你幹什麼？” “幹什麼？這不明擺著。”許家榮說著，居然開始撕扯她的衣服。 季靈希愕然，在驚怒之下，照著他裸露的肩膀狠狠咬了下去！ “嘶——”劇烈的痛感，讓許家榮下意識推開她，季靈希趁機逃離他的束縛，閃身抄起床頭櫃的檯燈，警惕的盯著他。 他們如今婚約是否名存實亡都不一定呢，季靈希怎麼可能跟他做！ 許家榮咬牙切齒，“季靈希！你淪落到如今這個地步，還不肯跟我睡？” “當初我圖你季家的助力，讓著你就算了，現如今你家都到這步田地了，你還有什麼可矜持的，扭扭捏捏裝假清高！” 季靈希被羞辱得渾身顫抖，瞪著他，“我只問你，許家是不是退婚了！？” 聞言，許家榮輕蔑一笑，看著季靈希的眼神更是不加掩飾的露骨，“不然呢？你以為你現在還配得上我？季靈希認清現實吧，跟了我，以後一夜給你一萬如何？” 季靈希氣紅了眼，握著檯燈的手都在發抖，“許家榮，我以前怎麼沒發現你這麼噁心？” “呵，我看你是敬酒不吃吃罰酒！”說完，他直接衝上來，季靈希舉起檯燈砸，卻被男人一把擋住，反手將她控制。 力量太懸殊了，季靈希顫抖著咬唇，目露恨光。 這時，許家榮褲兜裡的電話鈴響了。 他不以為然，電話自動掛斷，但緊接著又響起一個特殊的鈴聲。 許家榮動作一頓，咬牙切齒的空出手接通電話：“爺爺。” 對面威嚴的聲音傳出，季靈希離得太近也能聽見。 “家榮啊，你小叔回京市上任也有三個多月了，今晚辦家宴，你現在立刻回來。” 第4章 許家小叔 許老爺子是許家的真正掌權者，威嚴不言而喻，以至於許家榮如今箭在弦上，也不得不偃旗息鼓。 季靈希趁機掙脫開他的束縛，整理好身上的衣服。 見狀，許家榮冷笑：“這次先放過你，季靈希你好好想想吧，做我的女人才是你的最佳選擇，不然有第一個劉總就會有第二個，你以為次次都能逃得掉嗎？” 聽他提起劉總，季靈希難以置信，“你知道？” “當然，你可知你那好叔叔的拜帖遞給過多少人？如今圈子裡誰人不知，你季家大小姐是個五十萬就能買走的便宜貨？” 季靈希瞬間白了臉，眼底的恨意不加掩飾。 但許家榮卻不以為意，失去了季祥和庇護的季靈希就是一隻弱小的兔子，人人都能踩一腳，一隻兔子能有什麼反抗能力呢？ “季靈希，想清楚了隨時聯繫我。” 許家榮晃了晃手機，勢在必得的看了她一眼，轉身離開。 季靈希死死盯著他，在男人轉身之際，突然暴起舉著手中檯燈狠狠砸了下去！ 一聲巨響，紅漿自許家榮頭頂流下，劃過他猝然瞪大的雙眼，落到地面上。 男人抽搐著倒地。 季靈希後知後覺，顫抖著走到他身邊，蹲下身試探鼻息。 還活著。 松了口氣，季靈希站起身，居高臨下看了他兩秒，又不解氣地往那兩腿之間來了一腳。 … 許家。 京市作為H國首都，無數豪門世家紮根於此，其中許家是當之無愧的豪門之首，因此這一年一度的家宴，也舉辦得極其鋪張奢華。 一輛黑色紅旗L9停在了大門口，管家連忙來幫忙拉開車門，男人伸出長腿下車。 “二爺回來了，老爺在屋裡呢，現下除了家榮少爺，其他人也都到了。” 許盛廷聞言，朝他點點頭，徑直往屋裡走。 然而剛靠近主屋，裡面的吵鬧聲就傳了出來。 是他父親，許家家主的聲音，“那混賬東西，婚都退了還非要去招惹人家，還鬧到局子裡去了，簡直丟盡我許家顏面！” “爸，也不能怪我們家榮啊，傳信人說他腦袋都被打破了，分明是受害者！我看是那姓季的，家裡出事想要抓著我們許家不放，糾纏家榮呢！” 許盛廷站在門口沒進去，皺眉問：“怎麼回事？” 老管家尷尬道：“聽說是家榮少爺被他前未婚妻砸破了腦袋，人家姑娘打了120，結果救護車沒到，少爺自己醒了，拉著那姑娘非要報警，現在人被困在局子裡呢。” “他既然是受害者，又為什麼會被扣在警局。” “因為那姑娘跟警察說他試圖侵犯她……” 許盛廷冷笑，隨即推門而入。 與此同時，他大哥許源，估計也是覺得家宴鬧出這事實在丟人，拉著正據理力爭的妻子，勸道：“你別說了，現在當務之急是把家榮接回來。” 他大嫂紅著眼：“警察不肯放人我怎麼接！” “我去接。”冰冷的聲音打斷他們。 “盛廷？”許源尷尬笑道，“你來了，也是，你如今是市長，在警局那邊的面子自然比我們好用。” 許盛廷不置可否，神情冷淡的跟主位上的老爺子打了個招呼。 警局，季靈希坐在和許家榮一欄杆之隔的房間裡，冷眼看著他發瘋。 對此警察也頭疼，他們又何嘗想得罪許家，季靈希雖然控訴許家榮侵犯未遂，但到底拿不出實質的證據，本來教育教育就可以放人。 但許家榮一個嬌生慣養的大少爺，還是第一次被人開瓢，哪裡咽的下這口氣？ 非要強留在這裡死纏爛打，要季靈希坐牢，不然就賠償他五百萬。 五百萬？就憑他頭頂連輕傷都算不上的口子？這不搞笑嘛。 況且罪名雖無法成立，但人家姑娘身上的淤青和破碎的衣服是實打實的，砸他完全是合法自保，他再鬧也沒用啊。 警局外傳來動靜，有人小跑進來，“隊長，許家來人了。” “誰來了？” “好像是許家二爺。” 警長唰得起身，“還不快請進來！” 季靈希聞言抿緊了唇，神態防備。 許家二爺，那不就是許家榮的小叔？肯定是來撈他的。 門被推開，男人高大的身影出現在門口，季靈希警惕地望過去，卻看到了一張意料之外的熟悉的臉。 她人傻了。 怎麼是許盛廷？ ...... 接下來會發生什麼？ 這裡放的章節有限，點選下方按鈕安裝App，繼續閱讀更多精彩章節 （打開應用程式時會自動跳到該書） &5&		Love reading - A		85	https://www.facebook.com/61568188880222/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656806	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691951	1748420569		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBghTC_-ZAyCm726ul_FwOaF4adxdq2NPTxCPjDeZ2PWg&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656719	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 10:27 PM	1735691949	1749439676		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=b7Dpqf_BljIQ7kNvgGQpYEn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDHd6tmGRa-haSvvd3jFTGz2RaXc2alO6xmQAWsv-keZQ&oe=677A46EB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656745	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 11:23 PM	1735691950	1749702218		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656864	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691952	1748420569		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/62445322-fb_contact-enj103_2-1105-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214072000130250			1.5912914394216E+14	Hello reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469651823_559331816946357_5610371613772425433_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=IWtOJGdcwQUQ7kNvgEIWKMU&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYDeEp5w6EajvGNaLYWes3WsiGt76tM59julPxPVkfPhzA&oe=677A6321	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		She and her stepsister fell in love with the same man, but when he knelt down to beg her to save her stepsister, she felt desperate. She demanded to become his wife to save her stepsister. Two years later, when she got the divorce agreement as scheduled, she realized that she had ended up losing everything. ===== Emma Cooper boarded her flight home after three grueling months of filming. Today was also the final day of Emma's contractual marriage. The four-hour journey felt endless, but at last, the plane touched down. Once she retrieved her suitcase, she made her way toward the exit, expecting a company car. But as soon as the doors slid open, she spotted someone familiar--Edwin Reid, the Jenner family's long-time driver. He stood by a sleek black Rolls-Royce, his posture rigid and respectful, waiting. Dragging her suitcase, she approached. Edwin immediately took over, wordlessly opening the car door for her. Inside, a man sat in silence. His presence was cold yet commanding, encased in a perfectly tailored black suit. His sharply chiseled face devoid of any expression, he didn't look up--not even a glance her way. It was Ricky Jenner, her husband of two years. His unexpected appearance caught her off guard, though she quickly remembered why he was here. Their arrangement was ending today. Of course, he would show up. Emma slid into the car, maintaining a careful distance, the space between them as silent and tense as ever. For two years, Ricky had made it clear--he didn't want her close. Tonight was the first time they had been seated so near, and the closeness felt foreign. The faint scent of his cologne lingered between them, familiar but distant, like everything about him. Edwin quietly loaded her suitcase into the trunk and slid back behind the wheel. As the car pulled away from the airport, the silence inside grew suffocating. Ricky's expression remained as cold and distant as ever, his presence casting a shadow over the space. Emma's heart raced, each breath coming in shallow, uneasy waves. Twenty minutes later, the Rolls-Royce rolled to a stop in front of the Jenner family's grand estate. Before Emma could collect her thoughts, the butler rushed out, swiftly opening the door. Ricky stepped out first, his long strides carrying him toward the house without so much as a glance in her direction. "Let's go to the study," he muttered, his tone clipped, not even bothering to slow his pace. Emma's nerves had been on edge the entire ride. She knew what was coming. The moment she entered the study, she saw Ricky pull out a stack of papers from the desk drawer, tossing them in front of her. "Let's get a divorce," he said. Emma's heart twisted painfully in her chest, but she remained composed. She had loved Ricky for ten years, and wearing the title of Mrs. Jenner had never brought her closer to his heart. His body, his soul--none of him had ever belonged to her. "Nicola is old enough to marry now, isn't she?" Emma said, her voice trembling despite her best effort to keep it steady. Ricky's brow twitched slightly, a flicker of impatience crossing his sharp features. He didn't bother responding to her comment. Instead, he immediately extended the pen toward her, a silent demand. Emma forced a smile, but it felt like a crack in her mask. Without her usual makeup, her lips looked pale, and her face seemed drained of life. The exhaustion was undeniable. "Just sign it," Ricky said, emotionless and firm. She accepted the pen and, without sparing a glance at the contents of the contract, flipped to the last page and signed her name. The act felt final, yet hollow. As she placed the pen down, Emma glanced up at Ricky. His eyes, still striking, stared back at her with an icy detachment that sent a shiver through her. It was as if he was looking at a stranger, not his wife. "It's getting late. I'll move out tomorrow, if that's alright?" Emma asked, her voice fragile, her smile tense as she searched Ricky's face for even a shred of warmth. But Ricky's response came swift and sharp, dashing any hope. "Edwin will take you to a hotel." Was he really sending her away this very moment? Not even allowing her the courtesy of one last night under this roof? Her forced smile faltered, then vanished altogether. The silence between them stretched, heavy. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment before she turned away, her heart hardening with each step as she left the room. In her bedroom, Emma took the suitcase she hadn't even had the chance to unpack. When she dragged her suitcase downstairs, the maids rushed to help, but she waved them off, her smile weary. "Thank you, but I can handle it." They exchanged helpless glances, standing quietly in a line as they watched her approach the door. In the two years she had spent in this house, Emma had grown to care for the people here. Everyone, except Ricky, had shown her warmth. A pang of sorrow hit her, but after enduring two years of emotional isolation, she no longer had the strength to fight. It was over. Time to move on, and finally, let go. Despite the searing pain ripping through her chest, Emma remained dry-eyed. She had learned how to hide her emotions well. As she slid into the backseat of the car, she forced herself to appear composed. Edwin drove her through the city streets and dropped her off at a five-star hotel. Without a word, he left. Inside, Emma checked in and powered on her phone, which had been off for hours. There was a missed call from her father, Colby Cooper. She inhaled deeply, bracing herself as she dialed his number. Colby picked up almost immediately. "Emma, Nicola's condition has worsened," he said, his voice rough, weighed down with exhaustion and worry. Emma's heart skipped a beat. "What? When did this happen?" "About a week ago." "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she asked. "You were busy filming. I didn't want to burden you," Colby explained. Emma paused, the silence between them heavy. Her mind flashed back to two years ago, when she had donated her bone marrow to save Nicola Cooper. The realization hit her--she knew exactly why her father was calling. "What do you need me to do?" she asked, her voice steady but resigned. "No, there's nothing you need to do. Ricky's already taken care of everything--he's brought in top doctors, and the hospital found a bone marrow match for Nicola from the registry. You just need to visit when you can," Colby said. Emma stayed silent, her chest tightening. Colby, sensing her hesitation, gave her Nicola's room number and urged her to come soon, mentioning how much Nicola missed her. A sharp pain gripped her heart. She managed a weak "okay" before quickly ending the call, unable to hear more. That night felt endless. She tossed and turned on the unfamiliar hotel bed, her mind racing. By 2 a.m., she gave in, ordering a bottle of red w*ne. She drank most of it before finally drifting off into a fitful sleep. The next morning, close to noon, Emma was jolted awake by her phone ringing. Her agent's voice was quick and urgent on the other end. She pitched the idea of her joining a popular rural reality show--one that guaranteed fame for all who participated. "I'm not interested. I need a break," she replied, her voice groggy with exhaustion. Her agent snapped, clearly frustrated, "A break? Do you think you can take a break whenever you feel like it? Look, you've been in this industry for three years. You've turned down intimate scenes, refused reality shows and avoided any publicity stunts with male celebrities. The company has bent over backward to accommodate you! But what now?" Her voice grew sharper. "Three years in, and you still lack ambition. Keep this up, and your career will be done." "Then let it be done." "Emma, you..." Her agent's voice was cut off as Emma ended the call without hesitation. The frustration simmered inside her, but she didn't dwell on it. She headed straight to the bathroom, ignoring the incessant buzzing of her phone. After a long shower, feeling slightly more clear-headed, she decided to reach out to Jenifer Howard, a close friend she hadn't seen for a while. Emma asked if she could stay at Jenifer's place for a few days. Jenifer was thrilled and agreed, coming over to pick her up almost immediately. Once settled at Jenifer's, Emma unpacked her things and shared a quiet meal with her friend. That afternoon, she made her way to Ecatin General Hospital. Standing outside Nicola's room, Emma watched through the glass as the caregiver tried feeding her sister. Nicola, frail and pale, managed only a few bites before she began to retch. Emma's chest tightened with a sorrow she couldn't fully articulate. Nicola was her half-sister, five years younger and barely twenty now. They had been inseparable as children; Nicola had always looked up to her, following her everywhere. But everything changed when they both fell in love with Ricky. Two years ago, when Nicola was first diagnosed with leukemia, Ricky had been beside himself with worry. That was when the truth hit Emma--Ricky didn't love her. His heart belonged to Nicola. Chapter 2 You Don't Deserve To Be Around Nicola Back then, Emma's bl*od test results had come back clear--there were no complications, no signs of rejection. She could save Nicola. In truth, Emma wouldn't have hesitated to donate her bone marrow to a stranger, let alone her own sister. But before she could even voice her decision, Ricky had already thought of her as cold and indifferent, assuming she wouldn't step up to save Nicola. He was so desperate that he even knelt before her, pleading for her help--a sight that shattered Emma's heart. Never in her life had she seen Ricky humble himself for anyone like that. She had known Ricky since they were kids. From elementary school to high school, they had been inseparable. Childhood sweethearts, as some might have called them. Ricky used to get into fights with other boys just to defend her, and he would stay up late into the night to help her prepare for exams. She had believed, naively, that after all those years of being by his side, she would eventually earn his love. But she was wrong. Feelings, she had come to understand, were never won by logic or time. Emma was never as good at acting cute or knowing exactly how to please Ricky as Nicola. While he cared for both of them, the way he doted on Nicola was always more tender, more genuine. He must have loved her deeply. The thought pierced Emma's heart, and her eyes stung with unshed tears. What hurt most wasn't just Ricky's love for Nicola but the fact that he had assumed she was heartless enough to let her sister die. That judgment, so harsh and wrong, had infuriated her. In a moment of blind anger, she had demanded that Ricky marry her. She wanted to be his wife. Even though the marriage would only last two year, she had believed--foolishly--that it would be enough time for Ricky to fall in love with her. But reality, sharp and unforgiving, had torn that hope apart. She had lost. Miserably. "You still have the nerve to show your face here?" A biting voice yanked Emma out of her thoughts. Emma quickly wiped away her tears and turned to see Verena Cooper standing behind her, her expression instantly turning cold. Verena, her stepmother, was forty but looked a decade younger. With her perfectly styled hair and chic designer clothes, she exuded elegance and control. When Emma was still mourning the loss of her mother, Verena, who had been the family's servant, got pregnant. The father of the baby was Colby. "Spare me the crocodile tears!" Verena sneered, brushing past Emma as she entered the hospital room. Emma swallowed her frustration and followed behind, forcing herself to remain composed. When Nicola saw her, a faint light flickered in her otherwise tired eyes. "Emma," she said softly, a trace of warmth in her voice. Emma smiled, walking over to gently take Nicola's hand. "I heard you've been missing me." Nicola nodded, her expression gentle. "I haven't seen you for three months. I really missed you." Emma's heart twisted painfully. Nicola, with her innocence and kindness, made everything so much more difficult. How could her own sister, the one she'd loved and cared for, be the one standing between her and the man she longed for? When Nicola had fallen ill, Emma had crossed a line she could never uncross--using that tragedy to secure her place as Mrs. Jenner. She had expected Nicola to resent her for it, maybe even despise her. In her mind, their meetings would be cold, filled with resentment and distance. But Nicola still cared about her as though nothing had changed. And that was the hardest part of all. Every time Emma looked at her sister, the guilt became unbearable. "I'm taking a break right now, so I've got plenty of time to spend with you," Emma said, her eyes still red from emotion, but she forced a smile. Nicola's face lit up. "That's amazing! I want you to visit me every day until I'm discharged, okay?" "Of course, I'll be here every day," Emma replied warmly. From the side, Verena rolled her eyes, glaring at Emma with open contempt. She held her tongue for Nicola's sake, but every time she looked at Emma, her anger flared. She couldn't forget how Nicola had become a shell of herself when Ricky married Emma. Fighting her bitterness, Verena coaxed Nicola to sleep. Once Nicola was asleep, she turned to Emma, her voice cold. "Ricky's coming soon to see Nicola. If you don't want an uncomfortable scene, you'd better go." Emma stood silently, taking in her words. After one last glance at Nicola, now peacefully asleep, she turned and headed for the door. Just as she reached the doorway, Verena's voice cut through the air once more. "Don't bother coming back. After everything you've done to her, you don't deserve to be around Nicola." Emma didn't say a word. She walked out, her steps heavy with the weight of a truth she'd long grown accustomed to carrying. Emma quietly closed the door behind her and collapsed onto a bench in the corridor. She buried her face in her hands as tears flowed uncontrollably, her body shaking with silent sobs. Jenifer had been waiting outside in the car for far too long. Concerned, she decided to head into the hospital to check on Emma. When she entered the corridor and saw Emma hunched over on the bench, looking utterly defeated, Jenifer was about to rush over when she noticed Ricky stepping out of the elevator. He paused when he spotted Emma, but after a brief pause, he walked toward her. Emma had been following Ricky everywhere since childhood; she knew the sound of his footsteps anywhere. Hearing that familiar rhythm, she quickly wiped her face and tried to compose herself, though the effort felt futile. "Are you here to see Nicola?" she asked, forcing a smile as she looked up at him. Her eyes were swollen from crying, with streaks of smudged makeup on her face. She looked fragile, a shadow of her usual self. Ricky's response was indifferent. "You've already visited her?" "Yes," Emma whispered. For a moment, something in her appearance must have stirred a hint of sympathy, because Ricky, in an unusual display of kindness, added softly, "Don't worry. Nicola will be undergoing a bone marrow transplant soon. She'll get better soon enough." "I know." With just those words, Ricky simply turned to push open the door to Nicola's room. But before he could step inside, Emma couldn't help but call after him, "Please, take good care of her." If she couldn't have him, then maybe it was time to let go, to give him back to Nicola--the one he truly loved. Ricky paused, his hand on the door. Without turning to face her, he replied in a voice laced with restrained anger, "I don't need you to remind me. I'll take care of her." His words were sharp, each syllable weighted with frustration. Emma flinched. She had already signed the divorce papers, freeing him from their hollow marriage, giving him the chance to return to Nicola. This was what he had always wanted, wasn't it? So why did he still seem so furious with her? Was he really that eager to be rid of her? Did he hate her that much? Ricky disappeared into the room, but Emma remained frozen on the bench, her eyes locked on the closed door. She felt hollow, lost in the emptiness of it all. Jenifer, who had been watching from a distance, couldn't bear it any longer. She rushed over, gently pulling Emma to her feet and dragging her away from the hospital ward. In the days that followed, Emma continued visiting the hospital, but she no longer went inside Nicola's room. She only stood by the door, looking through the glass to catch a glimpse of her sister. Sometimes she would see Ricky taking Nicola for walks outside, their closeness painfully clear. From afar, she would watch, a quiet spectator to the life she had no part in. Ricky's coldness toward her was always in stark contrast to his gentle care for Nicola, a contrast that left Emma with a deep, aching wound that never seemed to heal. A month later, Nicola successfully underwent her bone marrow transplant. There were no signs of rejection or complications, and her recovery was progressing smoothly. For the first time in a long while, Emma felt a sense of relief. In the past month, Ricky spent nearly all his time at the hospital, constantly by Nicola's side. He seemed to have forgotten about going to the courthouse with her to finalize the divorce. Emma had watched enough of his affection toward Nicola. She was ready to close this chapter, ready to walk away and rebuild her life. That day, she made up her mind to call him. The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before Ricky finally picked up. "What is it?" he asked, his tone as cold and detached as ever. Emma didn't hesitate. "When are we going to finalize the divorce?" There was a heavy pause on the other end of the line. When Ricky finally spoke again, his voice was distant, but his words caught her off guard. "I haven't signed the papers yet." Her heart skipped a beat. After all this time, he still hadn't signed the divorce papers? Emma froze for a moment, her mind racing. Why hadn't Ricky signed the papers yet? Could he have changed his mind? Was there a possibility he no longer wanted the divorce? The thought was fleeting and absurd, and she quickly dismissed it. Ricky had always wanted to be free of her. Now that Nicola was recovering and old enough to marry, there was no reason for him to hold on. This delay couldn't possibly mean anything different. "Meet me at the courthouse tomorrow at nine," she said, her tone sharp, leaving no room for discussion before hanging up the phone. Meanwhile, in Ricky's office. For two years, Ricky had been waiting for this moment--the end of their marriage. The divorce papers had been drawn up months ago, prepared by his assistant, ready for the final signatures that would sever their ties for good. He had thought the moment he signed would bring relief, a clean break. But after Emma had actually signed them, something gnawed at him. A strange unease he couldn't shake. Ricky wasn't sure anymore, not even of himself. He wasn't something to be traded or handed over between two women. His decisions were his own--no one else had the right to make them for him. He calmly finished his work, then pulled the divorce papers from his desk drawer and tore them to pieces. "Divorce?" Ricky's lips twisted into a mocking smile. "It's not that simple. The game has just begun." ...... ==== Two years ago, Ricky found himself coerced into marrying Emma to protect the woman he cherished. From Ricky's perspective, Emma was despicable, resorting to underhanded schemes to ensure their marriage. He maintained a distant and cold attitude toward her, reserving his warmth for another. Yet, Emma remained wholeheartedly dedicated to Ricky for more than ten years. As she grew weary and considered relinquishing her efforts, Ricky was seized by a sudden fear. What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&		Hello reading		50004	https://www.facebook.com/61552535188096/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656593	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 11:26 PM	1735691947	1749702416		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656906	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 7:01 PM	1735691953	1749686494		2174																										thunderstruckag.com	Get Quote			DCO	New Razors Edge Concaves – #1 for Productivity	Multi-Crop Flexibility	https://thunderstruckag.com/razors-edge-quote/			1.1360907930992E+15	Thunderstruck Ag Equipment	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472198222_9424943250850540_2986714692872428520_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=kx-UPFRc7zQQ7kNvgGYNRvR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYAPwE8J3Mu0tzZPkQiB7igdWxz0q-VGXfUyxCxpEUXLiA&oe=677A5480	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Meet the newest standard in concave technology. Razors Edge Concaves deliver unmatched precision and flow, making your harvest smoother, faster, and more productive.		Thunderstruck Ag Equipment		4996	https://www.facebook.com/thunderstruckag/	0		GET_QUOTE								View Edit Delete
2656439	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 8:42 AM	1735691944	1749822134		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656770	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 2:40 AM	1735691950	1749541228		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656790	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 1:40 AM	1735691950	1749624032		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656816	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 12:03 PM	1735691951	1749143039		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468465156_1506299716740391_2726931569943692600_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=shcylgTWMrsQ7kNvgEPXiOR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBSaEBZspz2pN1tZ5YFu8PHCSTBpawl0LDqLbAzzohiHg&oe=677A58A9	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.		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2656825	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 12:04 PM	1735691951	1749143079		2174																										engage.westock.io	Get offer			IMAGE	Get 2 FREE Cans - VUUM Sparkling Plant Protein!	Boost Your Day – Enjoy FREE Drinks!	https://link.westock.io/GA6			2.2853519034057E+14	VUUM	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466022724_611579347864460_8650008641273838616_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vpwdxE26mOMQ7kNvgG5y_n7&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBNubbxnOMMa4n6UubqCyM6vikzVREPQhMD3eIFylgPyQ&oe=677A5980	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🫧 🍓💪 NYC: Get 2 FREE Cans of VUUM Sparkling Plant Protein! Sick of protein powders and ultra-heavy protein shakes? VUUM is the world’s first sparkling plant protein water. Protein that’s clear, light, and sparkling with refreshing fruit flavors. 🖇️10G Clear Pea Protein - Complete Protein With All 9 Amino Acids 🖇️ Zero Sugar 🖇️ Absolutely Nothing Artificial		VUUM		56	https://www.facebook.com/61555721175529/	0		GET_OFFER_VIEW								View Edit Delete
2656829	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691951	1748420569		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106347990250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469813151_2364611147210702_3897264206819948599_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=d_4OFg-io7MQ7kNvgH1YFbj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAczSeFG-EvJeYgSm2emAZzfyYnkLtP2abkA_vYnmjvZw&oe=677A5346	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656847	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691952	1748420569		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106532420250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469570171_2734541733399079_789864172343736830_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3GJKnrL_FcYQ7kNvgH-NnQ5&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYDncp5eQM1fnXHqfSgLoSiBoMVX_NyM5VYGaByPC7qxsQ&oe=677A4997	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656700	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 8:45 PM	1735691949	1749260739		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656699	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 12:01 PM	1735691949	1749142861		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656703	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691949	1748420569		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656704	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691949	1748420569		2174																										play.google.com	Install now			IMAGE	🌊Who is the strongest hero at sea?”		http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.hzwhhjy.gp			4.5549928432164E+14	海賊：傳奇	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471317024_2323442101347476_1815552172933539552_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4MuvttkEE_IQ7kNvgHrHYQ5&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD5dL-WByIJcYW-uy56jHVom2_lP5O6L6N9kOdozMX44g&oe=677A7614	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Massive diamonds 💎 💰Summon tickets are free now 😍😍😍 Only for today		海賊：傳奇		1	https://www.facebook.com/61570060610889/	0		INSTALL_MOBILE_APP								View Edit Delete
2656900	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691953	1748420569		2174																														MULTI_IMAGES						1.0715228081458E+14	The Angry Chickz	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472076507_867453928648830_4276415629265799375_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7AaiSG4Sh1oQ7kNvgHBZ0Kp&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYAbr94nxJ5Qxeusrf9MffhQdxZaQo0Ul2g9kJ6UWjnxlQ&oe=677A4406	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🎉 2024 brought the heat, but 2025? We’re turning up the SPICE and looking to bring Angry Chickz to even more cities! 🔥 Huge thanks to our Angry fam for making this year unforgettable (and so hangry). 🍗✨ Now it’s your turn! Where should we bring the heat in 2025? Drop your city in the comments and let’s make it happen. 🌍💪 Here’s to flavor, fun, and being a little extra spicy next year! 🥂 #AngryChickz #StaySpicy		The Angry Chickz		29513	https://www.facebook.com/theangrychickz/	0										View Edit Delete
2656545	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691946	1748420569		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656841	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691952	1748420570		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214135008910250			4.6358262017968E+14	Hello reading-A	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469917028_930747421925658_4661172314457757557_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=GbQAmrZa-CoQ7kNvgGcHlyz&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBCFO1DSkTbIIIyatH0m3ZM_o5Dfr7xydmPuhWVwbYV1w&oe=677A5392	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-A		2	https://www.facebook.com/61570065204033/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656451	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420570		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656462	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420570		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656476	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420570		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.com	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter		https://fbweb.moboreader.com/65656322-fb-abtest-Q0K.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1166169688155768&rawadid=120214820137230597			1.1034189532913E+14	Good Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471430839_1317459152594380_3031654833420412699_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=FEd_fwyY_PEQ7kNvgF80dyF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCMTq-S7aKItTiUEYcxOJ4hCFR8433OKC-XLgUHDNGB3Q&oe=677A7183	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		An accident reveals she wasn't her parents' daughter. Drugged and sent to a rich old man by her adoptive parents for investment, she managed to escape. Kicked out of their home, she sought her real parents, only to find they were the richest family in the city! ===== "Yelena, back so soon? Brett White may be older, but he's everything a woman could want--rich, influential, and dependable. You should be honored to have such a chance to be his wife." Sonya Roberts leaned against the doorframe, a smug smile painted on her lips. Yelena Roberts' expression hardened. "Why don't you take this 'chance' for yourself, Sonya?" Yelena's voice cut like a bl**e, her eyes narrowed with scorn. "You spiked my drink, didn't you?" Before Sonya could react, Yelena surged forward, her palm colliding sharply with Sonya's cheek. The crack of the sl*p rang through the room, slicing through Sonya's arrogance. Sonya clutched her stinging cheek, her confidence crumbling into a strangled gasp, as the fierce red imprint of Yelena's fingers seared into her skin. "Yelena! You insolent girl! Have you gone mad?" Tatiana Roberts stormed forward, her face twisted in rage and disbelief as she glared daggers at Yelena. "How dare you hit Sonya?" What an ungrateful wr**ch! After all, Yelena wasn't even a Roberts. Three months ago, a trip to the hospital changed everything. Yelena had been admitted for an injury, and what should have been a routine bl**d test cracked her world wide open. Her rare bl**d type didn't match Jonathan Roberts or his wife--her supposed parents. The revelation shattered the once happy family of three--Yelena wasn't their real daughter. Desperate to restore balance, the Roberts family launched an exhaustive search for their true daughter. They found her in Sonya, a woman who slid seamlessly into the life that had never been meant for Yelena. From that day on, Yelena became a ghost in her own home, a usurper unwittingly basking in luxuries meant for Sonya. What was once hers was now declared an injustice, an insult to Sonya's rightful claim. Jonathan and Tatiana needed to make amends with their newfound daughter. But simply cutting Yelena loose? That seemed wasteful. Brett White, a wealthy associate, had expressed a certain infatuation with Yelena. If they played their cards right, marrying her off would guarantee a five-million-dollar payoff. So, they hatched a sinister plan. A dr**ged drink. A room prepared for betrayal. They intended to hand her over like a pawn, signed and sealed. Yelena, however, had shattered their scheme, slipping away from their clutches in the nick of time. She turned to Tatiana, defiant and composed, her voice cutting through the room like a bl**e. "She dr**ged me, ridiculed me, and treated me like I was nothing. So tell me, don't you think that sl*p was well-deserved?" Sonya's face fell, her lips trembling before she plastered on a look of false hurt. "I was thinking of your future," she replied, her voice sickly sweet. "Mother told me your real family was from a poor village. Marrying Mr. White would elevate your entire existence. Surely, that's a blessing." Yet behind her feigned innocence, Sonya seethed. How dare Yelena strike her? Retribution would come. Soon. "If marrying into wealth is such a blessing, why not seize it yourself?" Yelena's voice dripped with ice as her narrowed eyes pierced straight through Sonya and Tatiana. "You ungrateful girl!" Tatiana's voice was a whip crack of fury, her eyes blazing. "How dare you even think to measure yourself against Sonya? She is leagues above you! Sonya is already engaged to Roger Ellis, heir to the prestigious Ellis family. A union that befits her status!" Sonya stepped forward, her smile syrupy sweet, but her eyes gleaming with triumph. "That's right, Yelena. Roger told me I'm his one true love, the only one he could ever imagine by his side." The reality of it all hung in the air like a suffocating fog. Yelena had been Roger's fiancee first, a plan set in motion long before Sonya's existence was uncovered. But the moment Yelena's parentage unraveled, so did her engagement. Sonya stepped into her place as effortlessly as one might slip on a perfectly tailored gown. Even Roger had seemed eager to make the swap, his affections pivoting to Sonya with startling ease. Sonya's gaze lingered on Yelena, scanning her like a predator assessing prey. The softness of her features, her luminous skin, the poised elegance that seemed intrinsic to her--Sonya hated it. Envy coiled in her chest, venomous and bitter, but she masked it behind her well-practiced smile. "Relax, Sonya. I wouldn't touch Roger with a ten-foot pole. You two are perfect for each other--a match so unfortunate it's almost poetic. Just be sure to keep your theatrics to yourselves. The rest of us don't need the headache." Yelena's lips curved into a slow, disdainful smirk. Jonathan, sensing the tension reaching a breaking point, finally stepped in. "Yelena, this is for your benefit. We found you a suitable match, someone who can secure your future. But if you insist on refusing, then so be it. Perhaps it's time you sought out your biological parents." Despite knowing the depths of Tatiana and Sonya's scheming, Jonathan didn't even try to stop them. He understood their actions were wrong, yet the undeniable truth of Yelena's origins left no room for her to remain with the Roberts family. With a resigned sigh, Jonathan pulled out an envelope containing ten thousand dollars and held it out to her. "Take this. It's the least we can do. We mistakenly brought you here from Phurg, and we believe your real parents are still there." Phurg--a desolate and impoverished region, surviving only on the charity of corporations--was a stark reminder of how far removed Yelena was from the life she had known. Tatiana scoffed, crossing her arms. "Jonathan, are you serious? We raised her for more than a decade. We owe her nothing. And now you're handing her money after she had the audacity to strike Sonya? She's nothing but an ungrateful little parasite." Ungrateful? Yelena let out a bitter, mirthless laugh, her cold chuckle slicing through the air. Their eagerness to discard her so easily, as if she were an old trinket they no longer wanted, struck her deeper than she cared to admit. When she first found out that she wasn't their biological child, she had considered leaving them with a significant parting gift, a sum of money to ensure their security. But now? That notion felt laughable. Jonathan lacked the skills to manage a business, and Tatiana was little more than a glorified spender, bleeding their resources dry. If it weren't for Yelena's behind-the-scenes efforts, the Roberts Group would have collapsed long ago. Her eyes hardened as she straightened her posture. "Thank you for the gesture, Mr. Roberts, but that won't be necessary," she said, her voice calm and resolute. Without waiting for a response, Yelena turned on her heel and ascended the staircase to pack her belongings. Sonya hastily ran after Yelena. When Yelena returned downstairs, her figure was composed, carrying nothing but a worn black bag slung over her shoulder. Her expression was unreadable, but her posture radiated defiance. Sonya trailed after her, her face a mask of false concern. "Wait, Yelena! Don't be so hasty. These clothes are practically new--you really should take them. I mean, I heard your real family is... well, struggling," she said. With a calculated flourish, Sonya reached out and grabbed Yelena's bag. The loud clatter of its contents scattering onto the marble floor seized everyone's attention. Amid the mundane items lay a gleaming Chanel bracelet, its brilliance catching the light like a beacon. Sonya let out an exaggerated gasp, her hand flying to her chest. "This... this is the bracelet Dad gave me just last week! How could it end up in your bag?" Yelena's lips curled into a cold, mocking smile. So this was Sonya's plan--a final attempt to humiliate Yelena. She glanced at Sonya, her eyes sharp as d**gers. If Sonya wanted a show, she'd give her one. "How could you, Yelena?" Tatiana shrieked, her voice trembling with outrage. "Stealing from the very people who raised you? After everything we've done for you? No wonder you turned down the ten thousand dollars--you've already helped yourself to something far more valuable! A thief within the family is the ultimate disgrace!" Jonathan's frown deepened into a stormy scowl. He stepped forward, his voice low and foreboding. "Yelena, explain yourself. Why did the bracelet I gave to Sonya end up in your bag?" Chapter 2 A Wounded Man "Jonathan! She's nothing but a thief!" Tatiana's voice cracked with urgency, her frustration boiling over. "We should call the police immediately!" Sonya, ever the picture of contrived benevolence, stepped forward with a sigh. "Dad, Mom, let's not jump to conclusions. Perhaps it was just a misunderstanding. Maybe Yelena put the bracelet in her bag without even realizing it. I'm sure she didn't mean to." "What? She didn't meant to? Are you seriously trying to tell me that the bracelet just happened to fall into her bag? This isn't just some trinket--it's an original design by Yvonne, a true masterpiece. Irreplaceable. Yelena knew exactly what it was worth. Her greed is written all over her. It's exactly as I feared! No matter how long we raised her, we can't change her nature." Tatiana's words lashed out like a whip, dri*ping with contempt. "Mom, really, let it go," Sonya chimed in, her tone soft, almost pitying. She turned to Yelena with a sigh, her lips curving into a faintly sympathetic smile. "If she loves it so much, let her keep it. It's not like we'll see her again anyway. Though I can't deny, this bracelet has always been special to me. Yvonne is my idol, and her designs mean the world to me." Yelena watched their performance in silence, her expression unreadable. Each line, each gesture, was delivered with the precision of seasoned actors. If they ever decided to give up their privileged lives, they could make a fortune in the theater. The absurdity of it all almost made her laugh. Calmly, she bent down and picked up the bracelet, letting its brilliance glint in the light. Without a word, she approached Sonya, holding the clasp up to her face. "Take a good look," Yelena said, her voice cool and composed. "Read what's engraved here." Sonya's smile wavered, her confidence slipping as she hesitated. Narrowing her eyes, she leaned in, her gaze falling on the inscription. The elegant engraving stood out clearly--Y.R. "How... how could this be?" Sonya stammered, her voice faltering as her shock momentarily slipped through her polished exterior. "Aren't you a devoted fan of Yvonne's work, Sonya? Surely, you're aware that this series was designed with the option for custom engravings--each bracelet made unique to its owner. Not only that, but as a limited edition, every single piece is registered with an identification code. One-of-a-kind, impossible to duplicate." Yelena's lips curled into a wry smile. Her tone, calm yet laced with cutting mockery, was a bl**e honed to perfection. Before Sonya could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence. A servant descended the staircase, clutching another bracelet in her hand. "Miss Roberts, is this the bracelet you've been searching for?" The room fell into stunned silence, all eyes locking onto the bracelet in the servant's hand. Sonya, recovering quickly, plastered on a strained smile and let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Oh, there it is! I can't believe it was here all along. How silly of me!" Her voice dripped with forced cheer, but her mind raced, panic bubbling just beneath the surface. What happened? She had been certain she'd slipped the bracelet into Yelena's bag. Yelena's icy gaze fixed on Sonya, the corners of her lips tugging into a cool, condescending smirk. "Well, Sonya, do you still think I stole your precious bracelet? Are you sure you want to get the police involved?" Sonya's composure wavered for a split second before she replied, "This bracelet is worth a small fortune. Tell me, Yelena, how could you possibly afford something like this? Unless..." She paused, her smile twisting into something uglier. "Unless you resorted to something less... honorable. After all, some girls these days will do anything for the right price." Yelena's smile sharpened into a blade, her eyes glinting with icy disdain. "You seem awfully knowledgeable about that line of work, Sonya. Tell me--was it firsthand experience that taught you how these trades operate? Did you sell yourself before rejoining the Roberts family? Is that why you're so well-versed in the details?" Sonya's face burned crimson, her mouth opening and closing in sputtering outrage. "You... you're making baseless accusations!" "Yelena, you insolent brat!" Tatiana roared, her face contorted in rage as she slammed her fist against the armrest. "How dare you speak to Sonya like that? Get out of this house! Out of this family! And don't ever come back!" Yelena's smile grew sharper, radiant with defiance. Her eyes glittered with icy resolve. "Beg me on your knees, and still, I wouldn't step foot in this place again," she said, her voice as smooth as steel. Turning on her heel, she slung her worn black bag over her shoulder and strode toward the door. She didn't hesitate, didn't look back. For her, the Roberts family and their hollow pretenses were already a closed chapter. She felt no sadness, only relief. The charade was over. "Good riddance!" Tatiana sneered behind her, venom dripping from her words. She slumped into her seat, exhaling deeply, her lips curling into a smile of satisfaction. In her mind, the family was finally rid of an unwelcome burden. Yelena walked out into the crisp evening air, the villa shrinking behind her. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she answered it without breaking stride. "Yelena, I heard that they kicked you out?" Brody Hewitt's voice was sharp, brimming with agitation. "They did," Yelena replied evenly, her tone calm but resolute. There was a pause, and then Brody's voice hardened. "Those people are absolutely sh**eless!" Brody's voice crackled through the phone, brimming with indignation. "They're the definition of fair-weather friends. Without you, Jonathan Roberts would still be floundering in obscurity. They don't even realize that you were the reason for their success..." "That's enough," Yelena cut in, her voice calm but firm. "Any updates on my biological parents?" Jonathan had claimed it was a mistake at the hospital, a mix-up rather than an intentional act of abandonment. That distinction lingered in Yelena's mind, fueling her determination to find her family. Brody exhaled audibly, reining in his frustration. "Yes, the search is in progress. We should have concrete results soon." "Good," Yelena replied crisply, ending the call without another word. As she approached the main road, a sharp, metallic scent drifted on the cold breeze, cutting through the night air. She stopped mid-step, her brows furrowing as unease prickled at the back of her neck. A figure emerged from the shadows, staggering toward her. His white shirt was soaked in bl**d, the crimson staining his chest and hands. Each step he took seemed heavier than the last, his strength visibly waning. "Stop running, coward! Accept your fate!" a menacing voice shouted from behind him. Yelena's gaze darted to the source of the commotion. A group of men, dressed in black, stalked after the injured man like predators closing in on their prey. Their movements were deliberate, their intent clear. The injured man--Austin Barton--paused, swaying but defiant. His face was pallid, his breaths shallow, yet his voice held steel. "Who are you working for?" "Sh*t it! We're done talking." The man then turned to his group. "Let's finish him off already." "Wait." Another man halted abruptly, his gaze shifting to the side. "There's someone else here." Yelena froze as all eyes turned to her. Her heart sank. Perfect. Just perfect. Today had been a series of escalating disasters, and now this. It was painfully clear these men had no intention of leaving witnesses behind. The cause of her predicament stood before her--the bl**died man staggering in her direction. The leader of the group, a hulking figure with a cruel smirk, stepped forward. His eyes roamed over her, lingering too long, and his lips curled into something predatory. The men around him chuckled darkly, their laughter carrying an undercurrent of vile intent. "Don't be afraid, sweetheart," one of the men sneered, his tone mocking as his gaze lingered on her. "Once we deal with this guy, we'll take real good care of you. Whatever your pretty little heart d**ires--it'll all be yours." Yelena didn't flinch. Her eyes, cold and unyielding, met his with an intensity that froze the air between them. She uttered a single word, her voice low and commanding, cutting through the tension like a bl**e. "Leave." The men exchanged amused glances, still jeering, but their laughter faltered when they caught a glint of silver in the dim light. In her hand, a set of long, sleek needles shimmered, their tips sharp and unyielding. Yelena's lips curled into a mocking smile, her gaze sharpening into something lethal. Before any of them could process the shift in her stance, she moved. With fluid precision, her arm arced through the air, the needles slicing through the darkness like streaks of light. Each one found its mark with unerring accuracy--throats, shoulders, legs--their targets incapacitated before a single cry could escape their lips. One by one, the men crumpled to the ground, their weapons slipping from their hands. Their jeering confidence dissolved into stunned silence as realization dawned far too late. Austin, still struggling to stay upright, stared at the scene in wide-eyed disbelief. Who was this woman? Her movements had been precise, calculated--far beyond anything he had ever witnessed. She wasn't just skilled. She was extraordinary! Chapter 3 Returned To Her Real Family Yelena cast a cursory glance at the men sprawled on the ground before shifting her gaze to the injured man. His sharp features were striking--eyes dark and cold, his expression distant and stoic, as if carved from stone. Despite his pallor and obvious pain, he exuded an air of quiet resilience. She had every intention of walking away, leaving this chaotic scene behind her. Yet something in her hesitated. One of her weaknesses--her soft-heartedness--held her back. With a resigned sigh, she knelt beside the man and examined his wounds. "Thank you," Austin said, his voice low but carrying a sincere note of gratitude. "It's nothing," she replied, her tone detached, though her actions suggested otherwise. As she checked his pulse, her brows knitted together. The bl**ding, while severe, wasn't the most pressing concern. His pulse was weak and erratic--a telltale sign of poison coursing through his v*ins. Yelena opened her bag and retrieved a small porcelain bottle. Uncorking it, she sprinkled a fine medicinal powder over his bl**ding wounds. Almost instantly, the bl**ding slowed, and a soothing coolness replaced the sting of pain. She then produced a small pill and handed it to him, her voice steady. "Take this. It will counteract the poison. Without timely treatment, you won't make it much longer," Yelena said, her tone cool and matter-of-fact. Austin hesitated, his sharp eyes studying her as if trying to gauge her intentions. Yelena continued her work, efficiently bandaging his wounds. Just as she finished, the sound of footsteps reached them. She turned her head to see another group of people approaching. "Mr. Barton..." "They're with me," Austin said, exhaling in relief. His shoulders relaxed slightly, his posture easing. Yelena stood up. "Since your men are here now, I'll be on my way," she said briskly, already turning to leave. "Miss," Austincalled after her, his tone softer now. "At least tell me your name, so I can repay your kindness." "That won't be necessary," Yelena replied curtly, her voice cool but final. Before he could utter another word, she was already gone. Trouble was a luxury she couldn't afford. After being saved, Austin's sharp gaze lingered on her retreating figure, a spark of intrigue lighting up his otherwise steely expression. How had she pinpointed the poison merely by taking his pulse? Her precision, her unshaken calm, and her evident expertise--it all defied belief. One thing was certain though--as long as she remained in Eighfast, he would find her again. Yelena walked away without a glance behind her, her focus already shifting to the next step in her journey. Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft hum of an approaching car. A sleek, custom-built extended Rolls-Royce rolled to a stop in front of her, its polished exterior gleaming even under the dim streetlights. Yelena froze momentarily, as she'd only ever seen such extravagance in magazines and on television. The door opened with precise smoothness, and a middle-aged man stepped out. His movements were deliberate, his posture immaculate, and his expression carried a quiet reverence. "Miss Harris, we've finally found you! I am Sebastian Holden, the Harris family's butler. At the request of Mr. and Mrs. Harris, I am here to escort you home." "Me? Miss Harris?" Yelena asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. What was he talking about? The Roberts family had mentioned her biological parents were impoverished villagers from the remote region of Phurg. Yet here stood a man whose demeanor and the car he emerged from spoke of nothing but wealth and privilege. "Yes, you!" Sebastian confirmed, his tone measured yet warm. "You are the eldest daughter of the Harris family. Your mother got emotional and almost fainted when she learned of your existence, and your father instructed me to personally ensure your safe return. Please, come with me." Sebastian, his expression composed yet filled with deference, stepped forward and held the car door open for her. Yelena's mind raced. Could the Roberts family's investigation have been wrong--or deliberately misleading? Her bewilderment gave way to resolve. She had always intended to find her biological parents. If someone had come to take her to them, why hesitate? Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the car. The door clicked shut with a reassuring softness, and the vehicle glided away from the curb... ...... Meanwhile, in a private hospital in Eighfast. Austin lay motionless against the stark white sheets of the hospital bed, his angular features etched with quiet intensity. Even in repose, there was an undeniable authority about him--an unyielding tension in his jaw and the unspoken command reflected in his gaze. "Sir, our team has conducted extensive searches in the surrounding areas," Domenic Murphy, Austin's ever-loyal assistant, reported. "But so far, we've been unable to locate the young woman you described." "I see. Continue the search." Austin's eyes remained fixed on the view outside, his voice steady and resolute. The woman had saved his life, pulling him back from the brink of death. But gratitude alone wasn't driving him. There were unanswered questions--puzzling and urgent--that demanded resolution. "Understood, sir! I've also deployed a team to investigate the men in black. Early findings suggest that your activities here in Eighfast were compromised. This led directly to the ambush. There is a possibility that your uncle..." Domenic stopped abruptly as Austin raised a hand, cutting him off with an imperious gesture. "I'm already aware," Austin said curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "For now, prioritize locating Yancy. Time is of the essence." "Yes, sir. I will see to it that it gets done soon," Domenic replied, bowing slightly before exiting the room with silent efficiency. Austin's gaze remained on the horizon, his mind racing. As a son of the powerful Barton family in Kheley, he had ventured to Eighfast with a singular purpose: to find the mysterious doctor Yancy, the person central to his mission. Two years earlier, Austin had been stricken with a lethal poison, one so rare that even the most renowned medical experts were left confounded. Conventional treatments had failed him, and Austin had been left with a grim prognosis--his time was running out. Rumors swirled of an mysterious doctor named Yancy, reputed to hold the knowledge needed to counteract such toxins. With hope as his only guide, Austin had journeyed to Eighfast in pursuit of this elusive savior, but fate had intervened in a way he hadn't foreseen. An ambush nearly claimed his life, and his mission might have ended there had it not been for a young woman who appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Now, as the days slipped away, Austin's resolve hardened. The toxin lay dormant for now, but its threat loomed. At that moment, the door to his hospital room swung open, and Jarrod Robinson, Austin's attending physician, strode in. A set of medical reports rested in his hands, and a flicker of restrained excitement lit his face. "Mr. Barton, I have good news! The toxin levels in your system have markedly decreased since our last evaluation." Jarrod had been Austin's private physician since the onset of his illness, a prodigy in the medical field renowned for solving complex cases. Yet, even he had been powerless against the mystery of Austin's poisoning. Austin's eyes narrowed in disbelief as he sat up abruptly. "Are you certain?" "Absolutely!" Jarrod handed him the latest report, his tone barely containing his curiosity. "This is remarkable progress. Where were you treated? Could you share that information with me?" The sudden improvement in his condition was both baffling and thrilling. "I received no formal treatment," Austin said, his voice steady but charged with an undercurrent of urgency. "During the ambush, a young woman saved me. She then handed me a pill and claimed it would be of help." The memory was etched deeply in his mind. From the moment he had taken the pill, a remarkable warmth had spread through his body, reigniting his vitality in a way that defied explanation. He had no doubt--the pill had been the turning point in his survival, and the woman who provided it was the key. "Whoever she is, her knowledge goes beyond anything I've encountered--it could revolutionize treatment for cases like yours." Jarrod's eyes gleamed with curiosity. At the words, Austin's eyes flashed with a determination that was bound to find her... ...... ==== Yelena discovered that she wasn't her parents' biological child. After seeing through their ploy to trade her as a pawn in a business deal, she was sent away to her barren birthplace. There, she stumbled upon her true origins--a lineage of historic opulence. What happens next? What will her real family be like? What kind of sparks will she create with this mysterious man? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&		Good Story		804	https://www.facebook.com/100090635329790/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656475	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420570		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.com	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter		https://fbweb.moboreader.com/65656322-fb-abtest-Q0K.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1166169688155768&rawadid=120214874004830597			1.1034189532913E+14	Good Story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471407421_1545667156148978_1446105878694416891_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=t9UoYFK-ZoAQ7kNvgHH_x6X&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYCV6w-b7Mh7BGdhaZDci1RY9UlZjpbeWbiD1PC-3YFg_w&oe=677A6D4C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		An accident reveals she wasn't her parents' daughter. Drugged and sent to a rich old man by her adoptive parents for investment, she managed to escape. Kicked out of their home, she sought her real parents, only to find they were the richest family in the city! ===== "Yelena, back so soon? Brett White may be older, but he's everything a woman could want--rich, influential, and dependable. You should be honored to have such a chance to be his wife." Sonya Roberts leaned against the doorframe, a smug smile painted on her lips. Yelena Roberts' expression hardened. "Why don't you take this 'chance' for yourself, Sonya?" Yelena's voice cut like a bl**e, her eyes narrowed with scorn. "You spiked my drink, didn't you?" Before Sonya could react, Yelena surged forward, her palm colliding sharply with Sonya's cheek. The crack of the sl*p rang through the room, slicing through Sonya's arrogance. Sonya clutched her stinging cheek, her confidence crumbling into a strangled gasp, as the fierce red imprint of Yelena's fingers seared into her skin. "Yelena! You insolent girl! Have you gone mad?" Tatiana Roberts stormed forward, her face twisted in rage and disbelief as she glared daggers at Yelena. "How dare you hit Sonya?" What an ungrateful wr**ch! After all, Yelena wasn't even a Roberts. Three months ago, a trip to the hospital changed everything. Yelena had been admitted for an injury, and what should have been a routine bl**d test cracked her world wide open. Her rare bl**d type didn't match Jonathan Roberts or his wife--her supposed parents. The revelation shattered the once happy family of three--Yelena wasn't their real daughter. Desperate to restore balance, the Roberts family launched an exhaustive search for their true daughter. They found her in Sonya, a woman who slid seamlessly into the life that had never been meant for Yelena. From that day on, Yelena became a ghost in her own home, a usurper unwittingly basking in luxuries meant for Sonya. What was once hers was now declared an injustice, an insult to Sonya's rightful claim. Jonathan and Tatiana needed to make amends with their newfound daughter. But simply cutting Yelena loose? That seemed wasteful. Brett White, a wealthy associate, had expressed a certain infatuation with Yelena. If they played their cards right, marrying her off would guarantee a five-million-dollar payoff. So, they hatched a sinister plan. A dr**ged drink. A room prepared for betrayal. They intended to hand her over like a pawn, signed and sealed. Yelena, however, had shattered their scheme, slipping away from their clutches in the nick of time. She turned to Tatiana, defiant and composed, her voice cutting through the room like a bl**e. "She dr**ged me, ridiculed me, and treated me like I was nothing. So tell me, don't you think that sl*p was well-deserved?" Sonya's face fell, her lips trembling before she plastered on a look of false hurt. "I was thinking of your future," she replied, her voice sickly sweet. "Mother told me your real family was from a poor village. Marrying Mr. White would elevate your entire existence. Surely, that's a blessing." Yet behind her feigned innocence, Sonya seethed. How dare Yelena strike her? Retribution would come. Soon. "If marrying into wealth is such a blessing, why not seize it yourself?" Yelena's voice dripped with ice as her narrowed eyes pierced straight through Sonya and Tatiana. "You ungrateful girl!" Tatiana's voice was a whip crack of fury, her eyes blazing. "How dare you even think to measure yourself against Sonya? She is leagues above you! Sonya is already engaged to Roger Ellis, heir to the prestigious Ellis family. A union that befits her status!" Sonya stepped forward, her smile syrupy sweet, but her eyes gleaming with triumph. "That's right, Yelena. Roger told me I'm his one true love, the only one he could ever imagine by his side." The reality of it all hung in the air like a suffocating fog. Yelena had been Roger's fiancee first, a plan set in motion long before Sonya's existence was uncovered. But the moment Yelena's parentage unraveled, so did her engagement. Sonya stepped into her place as effortlessly as one might slip on a perfectly tailored gown. Even Roger had seemed eager to make the swap, his affections pivoting to Sonya with startling ease. Sonya's gaze lingered on Yelena, scanning her like a predator assessing prey. The softness of her features, her luminous skin, the poised elegance that seemed intrinsic to her--Sonya hated it. Envy coiled in her chest, venomous and bitter, but she masked it behind her well-practiced smile. "Relax, Sonya. I wouldn't touch Roger with a ten-foot pole. You two are perfect for each other--a match so unfortunate it's almost poetic. Just be sure to keep your theatrics to yourselves. The rest of us don't need the headache." Yelena's lips curved into a slow, disdainful smirk. Jonathan, sensing the tension reaching a breaking point, finally stepped in. "Yelena, this is for your benefit. We found you a suitable match, someone who can secure your future. But if you insist on refusing, then so be it. Perhaps it's time you sought out your biological parents." Despite knowing the depths of Tatiana and Sonya's scheming, Jonathan didn't even try to stop them. He understood their actions were wrong, yet the undeniable truth of Yelena's origins left no room for her to remain with the Roberts family. With a resigned sigh, Jonathan pulled out an envelope containing ten thousand dollars and held it out to her. "Take this. It's the least we can do. We mistakenly brought you here from Phurg, and we believe your real parents are still there." Phurg--a desolate and impoverished region, surviving only on the charity of corporations--was a stark reminder of how far removed Yelena was from the life she had known. Tatiana scoffed, crossing her arms. "Jonathan, are you serious? We raised her for more than a decade. We owe her nothing. And now you're handing her money after she had the audacity to strike Sonya? She's nothing but an ungrateful little parasite." Ungrateful? Yelena let out a bitter, mirthless laugh, her cold chuckle slicing through the air. Their eagerness to discard her so easily, as if she were an old trinket they no longer wanted, struck her deeper than she cared to admit. When she first found out that she wasn't their biological child, she had considered leaving them with a significant parting gift, a sum of money to ensure their security. But now? That notion felt laughable. Jonathan lacked the skills to manage a business, and Tatiana was little more than a glorified spender, bleeding their resources dry. If it weren't for Yelena's behind-the-scenes efforts, the Roberts Group would have collapsed long ago. Her eyes hardened as she straightened her posture. "Thank you for the gesture, Mr. Roberts, but that won't be necessary," she said, her voice calm and resolute. Without waiting for a response, Yelena turned on her heel and ascended the staircase to pack her belongings. Sonya hastily ran after Yelena. When Yelena returned downstairs, her figure was composed, carrying nothing but a worn black bag slung over her shoulder. Her expression was unreadable, but her posture radiated defiance. Sonya trailed after her, her face a mask of false concern. "Wait, Yelena! Don't be so hasty. These clothes are practically new--you really should take them. I mean, I heard your real family is... well, struggling," she said. With a calculated flourish, Sonya reached out and grabbed Yelena's bag. The loud clatter of its contents scattering onto the marble floor seized everyone's attention. Amid the mundane items lay a gleaming Chanel bracelet, its brilliance catching the light like a beacon. Sonya let out an exaggerated gasp, her hand flying to her chest. "This... this is the bracelet Dad gave me just last week! How could it end up in your bag?" Yelena's lips curled into a cold, mocking smile. So this was Sonya's plan--a final attempt to humiliate Yelena. She glanced at Sonya, her eyes sharp as d**gers. If Sonya wanted a show, she'd give her one. "How could you, Yelena?" Tatiana shrieked, her voice trembling with outrage. "Stealing from the very people who raised you? After everything we've done for you? No wonder you turned down the ten thousand dollars--you've already helped yourself to something far more valuable! A thief within the family is the ultimate disgrace!" Jonathan's frown deepened into a stormy scowl. He stepped forward, his voice low and foreboding. "Yelena, explain yourself. Why did the bracelet I gave to Sonya end up in your bag?" Chapter 2 A Wounded Man "Jonathan! She's nothing but a thief!" Tatiana's voice cracked with urgency, her frustration boiling over. "We should call the police immediately!" Sonya, ever the picture of contrived benevolence, stepped forward with a sigh. "Dad, Mom, let's not jump to conclusions. Perhaps it was just a misunderstanding. Maybe Yelena put the bracelet in her bag without even realizing it. I'm sure she didn't mean to." "What? She didn't meant to? Are you seriously trying to tell me that the bracelet just happened to fall into her bag? This isn't just some trinket--it's an original design by Yvonne, a true masterpiece. Irreplaceable. Yelena knew exactly what it was worth. Her greed is written all over her. It's exactly as I feared! No matter how long we raised her, we can't change her nature." Tatiana's words lashed out like a whip, dri*ping with contempt. "Mom, really, let it go," Sonya chimed in, her tone soft, almost pitying. She turned to Yelena with a sigh, her lips curving into a faintly sympathetic smile. "If she loves it so much, let her keep it. It's not like we'll see her again anyway. Though I can't deny, this bracelet has always been special to me. Yvonne is my idol, and her designs mean the world to me." Yelena watched their performance in silence, her expression unreadable. Each line, each gesture, was delivered with the precision of seasoned actors. If they ever decided to give up their privileged lives, they could make a fortune in the theater. The absurdity of it all almost made her laugh. Calmly, she bent down and picked up the bracelet, letting its brilliance glint in the light. Without a word, she approached Sonya, holding the clasp up to her face. "Take a good look," Yelena said, her voice cool and composed. "Read what's engraved here." Sonya's smile wavered, her confidence slipping as she hesitated. Narrowing her eyes, she leaned in, her gaze falling on the inscription. The elegant engraving stood out clearly--Y.R. "How... how could this be?" Sonya stammered, her voice faltering as her shock momentarily slipped through her polished exterior. "Aren't you a devoted fan of Yvonne's work, Sonya? Surely, you're aware that this series was designed with the option for custom engravings--each bracelet made unique to its owner. Not only that, but as a limited edition, every single piece is registered with an identification code. One-of-a-kind, impossible to duplicate." Yelena's lips curled into a wry smile. Her tone, calm yet laced with cutting mockery, was a bl**e honed to perfection. Before Sonya could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence. A servant descended the staircase, clutching another bracelet in her hand. "Miss Roberts, is this the bracelet you've been searching for?" The room fell into stunned silence, all eyes locking onto the bracelet in the servant's hand. Sonya, recovering quickly, plastered on a strained smile and let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Oh, there it is! I can't believe it was here all along. How silly of me!" Her voice dripped with forced cheer, but her mind raced, panic bubbling just beneath the surface. What happened? She had been certain she'd slipped the bracelet into Yelena's bag. Yelena's icy gaze fixed on Sonya, the corners of her lips tugging into a cool, condescending smirk. "Well, Sonya, do you still think I stole your precious bracelet? Are you sure you want to get the police involved?" Sonya's composure wavered for a split second before she replied, "This bracelet is worth a small fortune. Tell me, Yelena, how could you possibly afford something like this? Unless..." She paused, her smile twisting into something uglier. "Unless you resorted to something less... honorable. After all, some girls these days will do anything for the right price." Yelena's smile sharpened into a blade, her eyes glinting with icy disdain. "You seem awfully knowledgeable about that line of work, Sonya. Tell me--was it firsthand experience that taught you how these trades operate? Did you sell yourself before rejoining the Roberts family? Is that why you're so well-versed in the details?" Sonya's face burned crimson, her mouth opening and closing in sputtering outrage. "You... you're making baseless accusations!" "Yelena, you insolent brat!" Tatiana roared, her face contorted in rage as she slammed her fist against the armrest. "How dare you speak to Sonya like that? Get out of this house! Out of this family! And don't ever come back!" Yelena's smile grew sharper, radiant with defiance. Her eyes glittered with icy resolve. "Beg me on your knees, and still, I wouldn't step foot in this place again," she said, her voice as smooth as steel. Turning on her heel, she slung her worn black bag over her shoulder and strode toward the door. She didn't hesitate, didn't look back. For her, the Roberts family and their hollow pretenses were already a closed chapter. She felt no sadness, only relief. The charade was over. "Good riddance!" Tatiana sneered behind her, venom dripping from her words. She slumped into her seat, exhaling deeply, her lips curling into a smile of satisfaction. In her mind, the family was finally rid of an unwelcome burden. Yelena walked out into the crisp evening air, the villa shrinking behind her. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she answered it without breaking stride. "Yelena, I heard that they kicked you out?" Brody Hewitt's voice was sharp, brimming with agitation. "They did," Yelena replied evenly, her tone calm but resolute. There was a pause, and then Brody's voice hardened. "Those people are absolutely sh**eless!" Brody's voice crackled through the phone, brimming with indignation. "They're the definition of fair-weather friends. Without you, Jonathan Roberts would still be floundering in obscurity. They don't even realize that you were the reason for their success..." "That's enough," Yelena cut in, her voice calm but firm. "Any updates on my biological parents?" Jonathan had claimed it was a mistake at the hospital, a mix-up rather than an intentional act of abandonment. That distinction lingered in Yelena's mind, fueling her determination to find her family. Brody exhaled audibly, reining in his frustration. "Yes, the search is in progress. We should have concrete results soon." "Good," Yelena replied crisply, ending the call without another word. As she approached the main road, a sharp, metallic scent drifted on the cold breeze, cutting through the night air. She stopped mid-step, her brows furrowing as unease prickled at the back of her neck. A figure emerged from the shadows, staggering toward her. His white shirt was soaked in bl**d, the crimson staining his chest and hands. Each step he took seemed heavier than the last, his strength visibly waning. "Stop running, coward! Accept your fate!" a menacing voice shouted from behind him. Yelena's gaze darted to the source of the commotion. A group of men, dressed in black, stalked after the injured man like predators closing in on their prey. Their movements were deliberate, their intent clear. The injured man--Austin Barton--paused, swaying but defiant. His face was pallid, his breaths shallow, yet his voice held steel. "Who are you working for?" "Sh*t it! We're done talking." The man then turned to his group. "Let's finish him off already." "Wait." Another man halted abruptly, his gaze shifting to the side. "There's someone else here." Yelena froze as all eyes turned to her. Her heart sank. Perfect. Just perfect. Today had been a series of escalating disasters, and now this. It was painfully clear these men had no intention of leaving witnesses behind. The cause of her predicament stood before her--the bl**died man staggering in her direction. The leader of the group, a hulking figure with a cruel smirk, stepped forward. His eyes roamed over her, lingering too long, and his lips curled into something predatory. The men around him chuckled darkly, their laughter carrying an undercurrent of vile intent. "Don't be afraid, sweetheart," one of the men sneered, his tone mocking as his gaze lingered on her. "Once we deal with this guy, we'll take real good care of you. Whatever your pretty little heart d**ires--it'll all be yours." Yelena didn't flinch. Her eyes, cold and unyielding, met his with an intensity that froze the air between them. She uttered a single word, her voice low and commanding, cutting through the tension like a bl**e. "Leave." The men exchanged amused glances, still jeering, but their laughter faltered when they caught a glint of silver in the dim light. In her hand, a set of long, sleek needles shimmered, their tips sharp and unyielding. Yelena's lips curled into a mocking smile, her gaze sharpening into something lethal. Before any of them could process the shift in her stance, she moved. With fluid precision, her arm arced through the air, the needles slicing through the darkness like streaks of light. Each one found its mark with unerring accuracy--throats, shoulders, legs--their targets incapacitated before a single cry could escape their lips. One by one, the men crumpled to the ground, their weapons slipping from their hands. Their jeering confidence dissolved into stunned silence as realization dawned far too late. Austin, still struggling to stay upright, stared at the scene in wide-eyed disbelief. Who was this woman? Her movements had been precise, calculated--far beyond anything he had ever witnessed. She wasn't just skilled. She was extraordinary! Chapter 3 Returned To Her Real Family Yelena cast a cursory glance at the men sprawled on the ground before shifting her gaze to the injured man. His sharp features were striking--eyes dark and cold, his expression distant and stoic, as if carved from stone. Despite his pallor and obvious pain, he exuded an air of quiet resilience. She had every intention of walking away, leaving this chaotic scene behind her. Yet something in her hesitated. One of her weaknesses--her soft-heartedness--held her back. With a resigned sigh, she knelt beside the man and examined his wounds. "Thank you," Austin said, his voice low but carrying a sincere note of gratitude. "It's nothing," she replied, her tone detached, though her actions suggested otherwise. As she checked his pulse, her brows knitted together. The bl**ding, while severe, wasn't the most pressing concern. His pulse was weak and erratic--a telltale sign of poison coursing through his v*ins. Yelena opened her bag and retrieved a small porcelain bottle. Uncorking it, she sprinkled a fine medicinal powder over his bl**ding wounds. Almost instantly, the bl**ding slowed, and a soothing coolness replaced the sting of pain. She then produced a small pill and handed it to him, her voice steady. "Take this. It will counteract the poison. Without timely treatment, you won't make it much longer," Yelena said, her tone cool and matter-of-fact. Austin hesitated, his sharp eyes studying her as if trying to gauge her intentions. Yelena continued her work, efficiently bandaging his wounds. Just as she finished, the sound of footsteps reached them. She turned her head to see another group of people approaching. "Mr. Barton..." "They're with me," Austin said, exhaling in relief. His shoulders relaxed slightly, his posture easing. Yelena stood up. "Since your men are here now, I'll be on my way," she said briskly, already turning to leave. "Miss," Austincalled after her, his tone softer now. "At least tell me your name, so I can repay your kindness." "That won't be necessary," Yelena replied curtly, her voice cool but final. Before he could utter another word, she was already gone. Trouble was a luxury she couldn't afford. After being saved, Austin's sharp gaze lingered on her retreating figure, a spark of intrigue lighting up his otherwise steely expression. How had she pinpointed the poison merely by taking his pulse? Her precision, her unshaken calm, and her evident expertise--it all defied belief. One thing was certain though--as long as she remained in Eighfast, he would find her again. Yelena walked away without a glance behind her, her focus already shifting to the next step in her journey. Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft hum of an approaching car. A sleek, custom-built extended Rolls-Royce rolled to a stop in front of her, its polished exterior gleaming even under the dim streetlights. Yelena froze momentarily, as she'd only ever seen such extravagance in magazines and on television. The door opened with precise smoothness, and a middle-aged man stepped out. His movements were deliberate, his posture immaculate, and his expression carried a quiet reverence. "Miss Harris, we've finally found you! I am Sebastian Holden, the Harris family's butler. At the request of Mr. and Mrs. Harris, I am here to escort you home." "Me? Miss Harris?" Yelena asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. What was he talking about? The Roberts family had mentioned her biological parents were impoverished villagers from the remote region of Phurg. Yet here stood a man whose demeanor and the car he emerged from spoke of nothing but wealth and privilege. "Yes, you!" Sebastian confirmed, his tone measured yet warm. "You are the eldest daughter of the Harris family. Your mother got emotional and almost fainted when she learned of your existence, and your father instructed me to personally ensure your safe return. Please, come with me." Sebastian, his expression composed yet filled with deference, stepped forward and held the car door open for her. Yelena's mind raced. Could the Roberts family's investigation have been wrong--or deliberately misleading? Her bewilderment gave way to resolve. She had always intended to find her biological parents. If someone had come to take her to them, why hesitate? Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the car. The door clicked shut with a reassuring softness, and the vehicle glided away from the curb... ...... Meanwhile, in a private hospital in Eighfast. Austin lay motionless against the stark white sheets of the hospital bed, his angular features etched with quiet intensity. Even in repose, there was an undeniable authority about him--an unyielding tension in his jaw and the unspoken command reflected in his gaze. "Sir, our team has conducted extensive searches in the surrounding areas," Domenic Murphy, Austin's ever-loyal assistant, reported. "But so far, we've been unable to locate the young woman you described." "I see. Continue the search." Austin's eyes remained fixed on the view outside, his voice steady and resolute. The woman had saved his life, pulling him back from the brink of death. But gratitude alone wasn't driving him. There were unanswered questions--puzzling and urgent--that demanded resolution. "Understood, sir! I've also deployed a team to investigate the men in black. Early findings suggest that your activities here in Eighfast were compromised. This led directly to the ambush. There is a possibility that your uncle..." Domenic stopped abruptly as Austin raised a hand, cutting him off with an imperious gesture. "I'm already aware," Austin said curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "For now, prioritize locating Yancy. Time is of the essence." "Yes, sir. I will see to it that it gets done soon," Domenic replied, bowing slightly before exiting the room with silent efficiency. Austin's gaze remained on the horizon, his mind racing. As a son of the powerful Barton family in Kheley, he had ventured to Eighfast with a singular purpose: to find the mysterious doctor Yancy, the person central to his mission. Two years earlier, Austin had been stricken with a lethal poison, one so rare that even the most renowned medical experts were left confounded. Conventional treatments had failed him, and Austin had been left with a grim prognosis--his time was running out. Rumors swirled of an mysterious doctor named Yancy, reputed to hold the knowledge needed to counteract such toxins. With hope as his only guide, Austin had journeyed to Eighfast in pursuit of this elusive savior, but fate had intervened in a way he hadn't foreseen. An ambush nearly claimed his life, and his mission might have ended there had it not been for a young woman who appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Now, as the days slipped away, Austin's resolve hardened. The toxin lay dormant for now, but its threat loomed. At that moment, the door to his hospital room swung open, and Jarrod Robinson, Austin's attending physician, strode in. A set of medical reports rested in his hands, and a flicker of restrained excitement lit his face. "Mr. Barton, I have good news! The toxin levels in your system have markedly decreased since our last evaluation." Jarrod had been Austin's private physician since the onset of his illness, a prodigy in the medical field renowned for solving complex cases. Yet, even he had been powerless against the mystery of Austin's poisoning. Austin's eyes narrowed in disbelief as he sat up abruptly. "Are you certain?" "Absolutely!" Jarrod handed him the latest report, his tone barely containing his curiosity. "This is remarkable progress. Where were you treated? Could you share that information with me?" The sudden improvement in his condition was both baffling and thrilling. "I received no formal treatment," Austin said, his voice steady but charged with an undercurrent of urgency. "During the ambush, a young woman saved me. She then handed me a pill and claimed it would be of help." The memory was etched deeply in his mind. From the moment he had taken the pill, a remarkable warmth had spread through his body, reigniting his vitality in a way that defied explanation. He had no doubt--the pill had been the turning point in his survival, and the woman who provided it was the key. "Whoever she is, her knowledge goes beyond anything I've encountered--it could revolutionize treatment for cases like yours." Jarrod's eyes gleamed with curiosity. At the words, Austin's eyes flashed with a determination that was bound to find her... ...... ==== Yelena discovered that she wasn't her parents' biological child. After seeing through their ploy to trade her as a pawn in a business deal, she was sent away to her barren birthplace. There, she stumbled upon her true origins--a lineage of historic opulence. What happens next? What will her real family be like? What kind of sparks will she create with this mysterious man? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&		Good Story		804	https://www.facebook.com/100090635329790/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656459	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420570		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656458	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420570		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656469	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420570		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656466	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420570		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656456	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420570		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656564	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691946	1748420570		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656865	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691952	1748420570		2174																										fbweb.cdreader.com	Learn more			VIDEO	閱讀下一章👉		https://fbweb.cdreader.com/130853449-fb_contact-ft-p103_2-c2-1128-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=809076924536970&rawadid=120215590365360134			4.7515149567892E+14	Love reading - A	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469263374_1495920971080304_6010327029673942186_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=hpEkG_wwfU4Q7kNvgGiN531&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYDuA9HzvmKbdrJVcdkO5-GzxYZRflshbGn6lbGQncw4tQ&oe=677A71A2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		她愛上拯救她的陌生男人，卻得知他竟然就是拿她父親貪污案做墊腳石上位的新任市長！血海深仇，她毅然離去，男人卻瘋了，滿城尋她求原諒！ ===== “季小姐，出來吧，你叔叔已經將你五十萬賣給我了，以後跟著我吃香喝辣，你什麼活也不用幹，只管敞開腿伺候就成。” 轟隆聲響起，暴雨傾盆而下，一道閃電劈開長夜照亮了男人肥肉橫生的猥瑣面孔，他半邊臉擠在門框上變了形，眼神卻不停往門縫裡瞄。 房間內，季靈希渾身發抖的死死抵著門。 “滾……滾啊！！”她崩潰大喊，“我有未婚夫，他不會放過你的！” “未婚夫？你是說那位許家孫少爺？”男人爆發出嘲笑，“怎麼？季小姐不會還不知道自己早已經被退婚了吧？嗤，被玩膩的破鞋，還裝什麼矜持！” 說完，他肥豬一般的龐大身軀猛然往脆弱的門上一撞！ “啊！”季靈希被突然劇震的門板嚇到後退，雙手顫抖，“退婚？不可能，不可能……” 可真的不可能嗎？ 自從一個月前，季靈希的父親被誣陷貪汙腐敗入獄，母親車禍後昏迷不醒，整個季氏家族就走向了衰亡。 鉅額家產被全部凍結清算，一夜之間，她從千金小姐變成了負債上億的乞丐。 明天她所在的這套房子也要被查封，她是來取最後的行李的，卻正好被那二叔拿捏了行蹤，居然要乘機將她賣給這將近五十歲的死肥豬男！ 眾叛親離，她徹底一無所有了！ 門外，那死肥豬男的不耐煩的聲音再次傳來：“老子可沒耐心陪你玩小兔子乖乖的開門遊戲，去！讓人把鑰匙送上來！” 他有鑰匙！ 季靈希猝然白了臉，一旦門被破開，結局可想而知。 到時候就算是被侵犯致死都沒人會來替她收屍！ 逃！ 季靈希腦海裡只剩下這一個念頭。 身後窗戶大開，狂風裹挾著暴雨入侵，溼透的窗簾翻飛，天際電蛇狂舞，雷聲轟鳴。 她含著淚一咬牙，猛地衝到了窗前。 二樓而已，摔不死！ 縱身一躍—— 在大腦都壓根沒反應過來之前，人已經滾落在了地面草坪上，渾身溼透沾著汙泥。 “嘶！”說不出到底是哪疼，總之通身都像是要摔散架一般。 “人呢？”“翻窗跑了！”聲音從二樓傳來。 季靈希立刻胡亂爬起來，逃命時腎上激素的飆升讓她爆發出無與倫比的潛力。 逃，快逃，快逃啊！ 她趁著夜色和暴雨的掩蓋，就這樣生生衝出了灌木叢生的後院，往路口奔跑而去。 與此同時，馬路盡頭一輛黑色紅旗飛馳而來，車燈射穿雨幕，照在了突然出現，試圖橫穿馬路的黑影身上！ “我去！”司機沒忍住爆了一聲粗口，猛踩剎車的同時狂打方向盤。 後座衣衫考究的斯文男人猝不及防被巨大的慣性所挾持，一腦袋撞在了前座靠背上。 “砰”一聲悶響。 司機頓時魂飛魄散，“市市……市長先生！你沒事吧！？” 男人黑著臉，“你應該問問被你撞的人有沒有事。”說完，他推門下車查看。 黑色傘面被暴雨沖刷，男人腳踩一雙高定皮鞋，踏著汙水來到昏倒在地的女人面前。 司機哭喪著臉，“我明明踩剎車了，好像沒撞到她啊？” “不是你撞的。”男人一眼看出端倪，冷笑了聲，“碰瓷？膽子倒大。” 說完，他冷漠收回目光，轉身就走。 “等等……”剛剛還“昏迷”不醒的女人突然出聲，伸出一隻髒兮兮的手，飛快地拽住了男人剪裁利落乾淨的褲腳，抬起臉虛弱道：“別走，他們在追我，求你救、救我……” 這個聲音…… 男人腳步一頓，回過頭來，漆黑的眸子居高臨下看清了車燈下那張沾著泥土的臉，瞳孔驟縮。 “這、這不是孫少爺的未婚妻嗎！是市長先生您的侄媳婦啊！”司機率先驚叫。 “呵，”男人語調嘲諷，“我侄媳婦？” 他們在說什、什麼……什麼市長媳婦的…… 季靈希眼前男人的臉早就化作重影，耳邊一片嗡嗡，逃到這裡已經耗盡了她所有的力氣，到最後也只能全憑本能的死死抓著那塊一絲一線都昂貴至極的“救命稻草”不放。 男人似乎蹲下了身，但季靈希已經徹底支撐不住，昏厥了過去。 第2章 私人醫生 再醒來是在陌生的房間，窗外是炫目的白晝。 床邊穿著白大褂的醫生正在收拾工具，見季靈希睜眼，立刻高呼：“先生，人醒了！” 男人很快推門進來，對上了床上女人一雙迷茫受驚的小鹿般的眼，眼底是深刻的防備和恐懼。 他走近床邊，“醒了？燒退了嗎？” 冰冰冷冷，有點熟悉的聲音，更熟悉的是那張面無表情的臉。 “……許先生？”季靈希認出人，瞪大眼睛，“怎麼是你？” 這個男人她認識，是她的患者。 季靈希大學一畢業就入職了京市第一人民醫院心內科，許盛廷是她接手的第一個病人。 但神奇的是，許盛廷患有的並非是任何心臟類疾病，而是應該歸屬為精神科的睡眠障礙。 他患有嚴重失眠症，入睡困難，曾有過長達一個月未合過眼，最後暈厥在辦公室的記錄，他的上一位心理醫生對他束手無措，可機緣巧合下，卻發現許盛廷對季靈希的聲音有特殊反應，能依靠她的聲音睡著！ 於是他便被轉到了季靈希名下，成為了一個“特殊”病人。 這段時間的變故讓季靈希分身乏術，醫院那邊不得已請了長假，倒是許久沒有為許盛廷催眠了。 季靈希看著男人那張過分英俊的臉，高挺的鼻樑在臉頰落下陰影，嘴唇偏薄顯得不近人情，一雙冷靜威嚴的鷹眸底下，卻掛著兩個煞風景的黑眼圈。 眼睛裡也有不少紅血絲，顯然是太久沒能休息，精神高度緊繃造成的。 “謝謝許先生救了我。”季靈希坐起身，小臉脆弱蒼白。 回想起暈倒前的一切，她沒想到豁出性命的一次“碰瓷”，居然正好碰到了熟人身上！ 不幸中的萬幸。 “不客氣，我也很慶幸沒有背上一條人命。”許盛廷確認她已經退燒後，便讓醫生離開了，自己則順勢坐在了醫生的位置上。 “抱歉……”季靈希羞愧垂眼，“我不得不那樣。” 她尷尬的雙手絞著衣角，卻突然意識到自己身上的衣服已經換了。 也是，渾身溼乎乎髒兮兮的，怎麼上床？ 可是誰給她換的？不會是…… “昨晚是讓保姆給你洗的澡，換了衣服。”許盛廷見她呆呆地盯著衣服出神，臉還越來越紅，就猜到了她在想什麼。 “謝、謝謝。”被看穿心裡所想，季靈希更羞恥了。 好在許盛廷沒再繼續計較，而是突然提起另一件事：“你是不打算回醫院了嗎？” “短時間內我可能確實回不去了。”她實話實說。 醫院的工作需要花費大量時間和全部精力，但工資對於現在的她來說卻是杯水車薪，再加上父親的冤屈還未洗刷，季靈希不能把時間全部交代在那裡。 許盛廷的表情更冷了，“那你的病人怎麼辦？半途而廢，季醫生未免太不負責。” 什麼病人，他分明就是在說他自己！ 季靈希低下頭，“如果許先生需要催眠的話，可以隨時聯繫我，能來我一定來。” 也算是報答他這次的救命之恩了。 “是嗎？可你的電話打不通，消息也一直未讀。” 季靈希一愣，想起了什麼，尷尬道：“抱歉，我的手機不久前壞了……”被那群追債的砸了，還沒來得及買新的。 許盛廷皺了皺眉，顯然也想到了現下季靈希的狼狽，他沒有多問，只是叫了人進來吩咐了什麼，很快那人出去又進來，手裡多了一部手機。 許盛廷把手機交給季靈希，“以後用這個聯繫。” “啊？”怎麼能平白無故拿人家東西，季靈希第一反應是拒絕。 卻被許盛廷制止，“先別急著拒絕，我還有一份合約要和你商議。” “什麼合約？” “首先，我願意每月支付你五十萬。” 什麼？ 季靈希睜大眼睛看他，一臉震驚。 隨即她意識到什麼，驀地扯過被子將自己裹緊，只露出一雙警惕的眼睛。 悶悶的聲音隔著棉被傳來：“許先生，我不賣身的。” 看著他正派的眉眼和楚楚的衣冠，季靈希心道，沒想到也只是個人模狗樣的男人。 許盛廷沉默了會兒，突然莫名笑了下，“是嗎？加錢也不可以嗎，只需要每晚……” 伴隨著他越來越露骨的發言，季靈希炸毛一般，“當然不可以！” “只需要每晚給我催眠。”男人徐徐補充完整。 季靈希僵住。 “季醫生想到哪裡去了？”許盛廷看著她羞恥的眼，語氣揶揄，“我只是想聘請你做我的私人醫生而已，畢竟你是這個世界上唯一能讓我睡著的人。” 簽合同的時候，季靈希的臉還因為尷尬發著紅。 但同時她也感到難以置信，許先生居然真的開了月薪五十萬聘請她做私人醫生，而她的工作僅僅是每晚來給他催眠而已，這簡直是天上掉餡餅的事情。 諷刺的是，五十萬，正是那個劉總要買走她的價格。 “謝謝許先生。”季靈希抱著新手機，眼睛亮亮的看著他。 看著她紅撲撲的臉頰，男人眼神一暗，隨即移開目光，“嗯，晚上記得準時到，現在是休息還是離開，都隨意。” 季靈希立刻侷促道：“我很快就走。” “……嗯。” 季靈希出了門，才發現這裡是郊區的一棟私人別墅，私密性很強，和許先生這個人一樣神秘。 神秘到即使作為主治醫師為他治療了三個月，季靈希還是不清楚他的身份，只知道他忙碌且富有，應該是個成功人士。 她用新手機登入了自己的社交賬號，很快彈出一大堆未讀消息。 其中有個紅色的頭像格外醒目，是她的未婚夫許家榮，季家出事後，季靈希一直沒能聯繫上他。 現在他卻發來：靈希，明天下午三點，盛輝酒店1306見。 是昨天的消息。 第3章 一夜給你一萬 距離三點還有一個小時，季靈希看一下地圖，從這裡打車過去剛好來得及。 要去嗎？她心裡突突的跳。 昨天那個死肥豬男的話還歷歷在耳，他說許家早就退婚了。 可季靈希壓根沒收到通知，因此就算許家榮裝死了一個月，她還一直自欺欺人般抱著期待。 季家尚且衰亡，萬一許家也遇到了麻煩呢？或者是擔心受到牽連，等這陣子風頭過了，他就會聯繫她了呢？ 季家和許家在爺爺輩曾是世交，季靈希和許家榮更是自小就定下了娃娃親，兩人青梅竹馬，感情一度是甜蜜的，季靈希在心裡確實曾真心把他當做未來丈夫。 因此還懷揣著天真的期待和信任。 她最終叫了個網約車出發了。 無論退婚一事是真是假，她如今孤立無援，身負鉅債，即使是最後一點希望也要把握！ 網約車上，司機播放著時政廣播，主持人正在播報京市新任市長，是如何新官上任三把火，頒佈了不少利民新政策不說，還抓了一大批貪官汙吏，其中能源部部長季祥和，更是被舉報貪汙公款高達十個億，舉國震驚。 季靈希緊緊咬著唇，眼眶泛紅。 是新市長抓了父親。 說起來，之前她昏迷前，好像是隱隱約約聽到了什麼市長什麼媳婦之類的。 可當時深夜荒涼，周圍只有一輛車上有活人，大概高燒產生的錯覺吧。 如果能見到那位市長就好了，她真的很想瞭解清楚父親貪汙案件的始末，想知道那些所謂確鑿的證據都是從何而來。 她是父親的女兒，最清楚父親的人品，他是絕對做不出貪汙公款這種事情的！ 但以她現在的身份，想見那位市長一面，恐怕難如登天。 車停在了盛輝酒店門口，季靈希下車後，按照門牌號很快來到約定地點。 房門沒有關嚴，應該是許家榮已經到了，在等她。 季靈希沒多想，直接推開了門。 房間裡卻一片漆黑。 難道許家榮還沒到？ 季靈希略有疑惑，一邊往裡走一邊摸索開關。 突然她伸出的手腕被猛地攥住。 有人！ 季靈希猝然睜大眼，驚叫還沒來的及喊出口，就被捂住口鼻，強制拉進了一個光裸的懷抱。 “唔唔唔！”她拼命掙扎，卻完全敵不過對方的力氣，心裡驚懼一片。 “啪！”燈被打開了。 季靈希看清了來人，赫然是許家榮！ 對上她難以置信的眼，許家榮獰笑一聲，砰的把門踢上，緊接著把季靈希按在了牆上。 “靈希，我好想你。”許家榮緊貼著她身體，灼熱的鼻息噴灑在季靈希的脖子上，讓她渾身發毛。 她抗拒的推著他，“許家榮，你幹什麼？” “幹什麼？這不明擺著。”許家榮說著，居然開始撕扯她的衣服。 季靈希愕然，在驚怒之下，照著他裸露的肩膀狠狠咬了下去！ “嘶——”劇烈的痛感，讓許家榮下意識推開她，季靈希趁機逃離他的束縛，閃身抄起床頭櫃的檯燈，警惕的盯著他。 他們如今婚約是否名存實亡都不一定呢，季靈希怎麼可能跟他做！ 許家榮咬牙切齒，“季靈希！你淪落到如今這個地步，還不肯跟我睡？” “當初我圖你季家的助力，讓著你就算了，現如今你家都到這步田地了，你還有什麼可矜持的，扭扭捏捏裝假清高！” 季靈希被羞辱得渾身顫抖，瞪著他，“我只問你，許家是不是退婚了！？” 聞言，許家榮輕蔑一笑，看著季靈希的眼神更是不加掩飾的露骨，“不然呢？你以為你現在還配得上我？季靈希認清現實吧，跟了我，以後一夜給你一萬如何？” 季靈希氣紅了眼，握著檯燈的手都在發抖，“許家榮，我以前怎麼沒發現你這麼噁心？” “呵，我看你是敬酒不吃吃罰酒！”說完，他直接衝上來，季靈希舉起檯燈砸，卻被男人一把擋住，反手將她控制。 力量太懸殊了，季靈希顫抖著咬唇，目露恨光。 這時，許家榮褲兜裡的電話鈴響了。 他不以為然，電話自動掛斷，但緊接著又響起一個特殊的鈴聲。 許家榮動作一頓，咬牙切齒的空出手接通電話：“爺爺。” 對面威嚴的聲音傳出，季靈希離得太近也能聽見。 “家榮啊，你小叔回京市上任也有三個多月了，今晚辦家宴，你現在立刻回來。” 第4章 許家小叔 許老爺子是許家的真正掌權者，威嚴不言而喻，以至於許家榮如今箭在弦上，也不得不偃旗息鼓。 季靈希趁機掙脫開他的束縛，整理好身上的衣服。 見狀，許家榮冷笑：“這次先放過你，季靈希你好好想想吧，做我的女人才是你的最佳選擇，不然有第一個劉總就會有第二個，你以為次次都能逃得掉嗎？” 聽他提起劉總，季靈希難以置信，“你知道？” “當然，你可知你那好叔叔的拜帖遞給過多少人？如今圈子裡誰人不知，你季家大小姐是個五十萬就能買走的便宜貨？” 季靈希瞬間白了臉，眼底的恨意不加掩飾。 但許家榮卻不以為意，失去了季祥和庇護的季靈希就是一隻弱小的兔子，人人都能踩一腳，一隻兔子能有什麼反抗能力呢？ “季靈希，想清楚了隨時聯繫我。” 許家榮晃了晃手機，勢在必得的看了她一眼，轉身離開。 季靈希死死盯著他，在男人轉身之際，突然暴起舉著手中檯燈狠狠砸了下去！ 一聲巨響，紅漿自許家榮頭頂流下，劃過他猝然瞪大的雙眼，落到地面上。 男人抽搐著倒地。 季靈希後知後覺，顫抖著走到他身邊，蹲下身試探鼻息。 還活著。 松了口氣，季靈希站起身，居高臨下看了他兩秒，又不解氣地往那兩腿之間來了一腳。 … 許家。 京市作為H國首都，無數豪門世家紮根於此，其中許家是當之無愧的豪門之首，因此這一年一度的家宴，也舉辦得極其鋪張奢華。 一輛黑色紅旗L9停在了大門口，管家連忙來幫忙拉開車門，男人伸出長腿下車。 “二爺回來了，老爺在屋裡呢，現下除了家榮少爺，其他人也都到了。” 許盛廷聞言，朝他點點頭，徑直往屋裡走。 然而剛靠近主屋，裡面的吵鬧聲就傳了出來。 是他父親，許家家主的聲音，“那混賬東西，婚都退了還非要去招惹人家，還鬧到局子裡去了，簡直丟盡我許家顏面！” “爸，也不能怪我們家榮啊，傳信人說他腦袋都被打破了，分明是受害者！我看是那姓季的，家裡出事想要抓著我們許家不放，糾纏家榮呢！” 許盛廷站在門口沒進去，皺眉問：“怎麼回事？” 老管家尷尬道：“聽說是家榮少爺被他前未婚妻砸破了腦袋，人家姑娘打了120，結果救護車沒到，少爺自己醒了，拉著那姑娘非要報警，現在人被困在局子裡呢。” “他既然是受害者，又為什麼會被扣在警局。” “因為那姑娘跟警察說他試圖侵犯她……” 許盛廷冷笑，隨即推門而入。 與此同時，他大哥許源，估計也是覺得家宴鬧出這事實在丟人，拉著正據理力爭的妻子，勸道：“你別說了，現在當務之急是把家榮接回來。” 他大嫂紅著眼：“警察不肯放人我怎麼接！” “我去接。”冰冷的聲音打斷他們。 “盛廷？”許源尷尬笑道，“你來了，也是，你如今是市長，在警局那邊的面子自然比我們好用。” 許盛廷不置可否，神情冷淡的跟主位上的老爺子打了個招呼。 警局，季靈希坐在和許家榮一欄杆之隔的房間裡，冷眼看著他發瘋。 對此警察也頭疼，他們又何嘗想得罪許家，季靈希雖然控訴許家榮侵犯未遂，但到底拿不出實質的證據，本來教育教育就可以放人。 但許家榮一個嬌生慣養的大少爺，還是第一次被人開瓢，哪裡咽的下這口氣？ 非要強留在這裡死纏爛打，要季靈希坐牢，不然就賠償他五百萬。 五百萬？就憑他頭頂連輕傷都算不上的口子？這不搞笑嘛。 況且罪名雖無法成立，但人家姑娘身上的淤青和破碎的衣服是實打實的，砸他完全是合法自保，他再鬧也沒用啊。 警局外傳來動靜，有人小跑進來，“隊長，許家來人了。” “誰來了？” “好像是許家二爺。” 警長唰得起身，“還不快請進來！” 季靈希聞言抿緊了唇，神態防備。 許家二爺，那不就是許家榮的小叔？肯定是來撈他的。 門被推開，男人高大的身影出現在門口，季靈希警惕地望過去，卻看到了一張意料之外的熟悉的臉。 她人傻了。 怎麼是許盛廷？ ...... 接下來會發生什麼？ 這裡放的章節有限，點選下方按鈕安裝App，繼續閱讀更多精彩章節 （打開應用程式時會自動跳到該書） &5&		Love reading - A		85	https://www.facebook.com/61568188880222/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656894	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691953	1748420570		2174																										www.instagram.com	Send message			VIDEO			http://www.instagram.com/			1.0296737257817E+14	Life Of Kinders	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472231477_1251721405882887_4968696023633940878_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=C_6dcF2Ooz0Q7kNvgFpBIfC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYCihn5Tok0Eh2qV17XWpFLhROrl2OP5df1GEpkpoSkoCw&oe=677A5195	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It’s really not rocket science, for those who crave this like I did for 20 years there’s never been a better time to make this happen.. When you don’t have anyone to answer to, when you don’t need to get approval for time off, when you don’t miss out on quality wkd family time!!!! Create a stream of income that YOU own and will grow over time so you can leave the 9-5 job you may not enjoy.. 5 days until 2025 don’t let another year of wondering go pass. Imagine playing golf on a Monday and making money to do so… this is possible! DM me or comment below 🏌️‍♂️to learn how 🇺🇸⛳️💸		Life Of Kinders		1007	https://www.facebook.com/lifeofkinders/	0		INSTAGRAM_MESSAGE								View Edit Delete
2656883	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 11:35 PM	1735691952	1749702911		2174																										fbweb.kifflire.com	Learn more			IMAGE	Cliquez ici pour en savoir plus👉👉		https://fbweb.kifflire.com/20896410-fb_contact-frp83_2-241203-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=3889292031299494&rawadid=120213961224920239			4.8124148173477E+14	Loving reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469192998_1264842321399813_3930544604104497517_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9VaPpHNszkYQ7kNvgEqyfSl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYDjJupZjnKKXaFjPg5M350b2EeZkCNBaNLH4rdnaFFxjQ&oe=677A69F1	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		« Divorçons. » Colton Stevens s'est approché avec impatience. Allison Clarke luttait pour garder son sang-froid. « C'est notre troisième anniversaire de mariage aujourd'hui. » Elle avait passé des heures à préparer une table couverte des plats préférés. Colton s'est moqué. « Quatre millions devraient te permettre de vivre toute ta vie. Melany est revenue. Elle est orgueilleuse, et elle ne supportera pas toute cette situation.» Melany était celle qui tenait son cœur, elle l'avait quitté trois ans plus tôt, rompant leurs fiançailles et partant à l'étranger. Pourtant, aujourd'hui, sur un simple mot de sa part, Colton a facilement accepté son retour et a choisi de divorcer d'Allison sans la moindre hésitation. Le cœur d'Allison s'est effondré. Elle était autrefois une parfumeuse de génie, une pirate informatique de renom. Pendant trois ans, elle avait enterré toute trace de son génie, se transformant en parfaite femme au foyer. Récemment, elle avait obtenu une opportunité rare avec Cobweb, le réseau de renseignement le plus insaisissable, dans l'espoir d'aider la famille Stevens à conclure une affaire cruciale. Pourtant, maintenant, la piqûre de la trahison l'a profondément marquée. Il a jeté un coup d'œil à sa montre, comptant manifestement le temps. « Tu ferais mieux de te préparer et d'engager un avocat... » Il n'a pas pu terminer. « Je sais ce qu'il faut faire », l'a interrompu Allison, la voix teintée de dégoût. Elle s'est replongée dans un souvenir d'enfance où elle était aveugle et en grand danger. Un garçon l'avait portée sur son dos pendant trois jours et trois nuits, lui sauvant la vie. Ce garçon avait dit qu'il s'appelait Colton Stevens. À présent, trois ans après leur mariage, ce même garçon l'obligeait à partir. Le temps transformait parfois les gens en étrangers. « Je vais y aller », a dit Allison en revenant à l'instant présent. Elle s'est levée et a regardé Colton avec fermeté et détachement. « À partir de maintenant, nous ne nous devons plus rien l'un à l'autre. » &6&		Loving reading		761	https://www.facebook.com/61567813351718/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656950	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691956	1748420570		2174																										New Wave Society ✩ Every Second Saturday's ✩ Jan 11th 2025 ✩ Classic Dance Hits of the '80s New Wave	INTERESTED			EVENT	New Wave Society ✩ Every Second Saturday's ✩ Jan 11th 2025 ✩ Classic Dance Hits of the '80s New Wave	Sacramento / California Every 2nd Saturday's Saturday Jan 11th 2025 { First Dance Party of the Year!! } New Wave Society!! Dance Night Party 7 years and still going A monthly Dance party you dont want to miss out on, and a Great Time you will never forget from the best Music From its Era! Inside the new STARLET ROOM above Harlow's on J st. - Let's DANCE to the coolest songs that played in the clubs back in the '80s! to some 90s Mash ups. Please RSVP HERE and share with your Friends (sharing is caring). Let's make this a great party for the Community and keep '80s New Wave alive in Sacramento! Tickets online at www.harlows.com buy them early for this event to save your spot to get in 🙂 Please RSVP HERE and share with your Friends (sharing is caring). Let's make this a great party for the Community and keep '80s New Wave alive in Sacramento! ---------------------------------------- https://www.facebook.com/events/606114115115284/ ----------------------------------------- (Classic '80s New Wave,New Wave, your favorite '80s and New Wave Hits) With your Resident DJs - Dj Keyz Dj James * Classic Hits '80s / New Wave / Alternative Dance Party!! * 21 + W/valid ID 9PM-1:30AM ~Cover $10 The Starlet Room 2708 J Street Sacramento #80s #Newwave #80synthpop #newromantic #depechemode #duranduran #visage #ultravox #petshopboys #neworder #aha #tearsforfears #devo #yazoo #80sclubkids #80sradiostation #sacramento80snewwave #sacramento #21plus #80sventagecafe #80slovesongs #AbC #softcell #heaven17 #blitzNewwave #80hits #newwavesociety #thecure #simpleminds #thestarletroom #djkeyz	https://www.facebook.com/events/606114115115284/			2.6815344030754E+14	New Wave Society - SAC	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472078468_9233143230078161_8886759695509778362_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=PrsGEJFrDJ0Q7kNvgHKcMiD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYCqUSVju7N6Z3B0L_cGVuJA4Ge8ByVqi2BZku55uJqz8w&oe=677A6BB2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Sacramento / California Every 2nd Saturday's Saturday Jan 11th 2025 { First Dance Party of the Year!! } New Wave Society!! Dance Night Party 7 years and still going A monthly Dance party you dont want to miss out on, and a Great Time you will never forget from the best Music From its Era! Inside the new STARLET ROOM above Harlow's on J st. - Let's DANCE to the coolest songs that played in the clubs back in the '80s! to some 90s Mash ups. Please RSVP HERE and share with your Friends (sharing is caring). Let's make this a great party for the Community and keep '80s New Wave alive in Sacramento! Tickets online at www.harlows.com buy them early for this event to save your spot to get in 🙂 Please RSVP HERE and share with your Friends (sharing is caring). Let's make this a great party for the Community and keep '80s New Wave alive in Sacramento! ---------------------------------------- https://www.facebook.com/events/606114115115284/ ----------------------------------------- (Classic '80s New Wave,New Wave, your favorite '80s and New Wave Hits) With your Resident DJs - Dj Keyz Dj James * Classic Hits '80s / New Wave / Alternative Dance Party!! * 21 + W/valid ID 9PM-1:30AM ~Cover $10 The Starlet Room 2708 J Street Sacramento #80s #Newwave #80synthpop #newromantic #depechemode #duranduran #visage #ultravox #petshopboys #neworder #aha #tearsforfears #devo #yazoo #80sclubkids #80sradiostation #sacramento80snewwave #sacramento #21plus #80sventagecafe #80slovesongs #AbC #softcell #heaven17 #blitzNewwave #80hits #newwavesociety #thecure #simpleminds #thestarletroom #djkeyz		New Wave Society - SAC		3243	https://www.facebook.com/100063358646613/	0		EVENT_RSVP								View Edit Delete
2656681	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691948	1748420570		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656760	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420570		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=arVAwv0q7qUQ7kNvgHZBV72&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYCd-Gd05rSfOGGRrZLAvEU6ORCohMppFPow6L1_9dmeAw&oe=677A50EC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656764	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420570		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=arVAwv0q7qUQ7kNvgHZBV72&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYCd-Gd05rSfOGGRrZLAvEU6ORCohMppFPow6L1_9dmeAw&oe=677A50EC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656762	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420570		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=arVAwv0q7qUQ7kNvgHZBV72&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYCd-Gd05rSfOGGRrZLAvEU6ORCohMppFPow6L1_9dmeAw&oe=677A50EC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656763	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420570		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=arVAwv0q7qUQ7kNvgHZBV72&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYCd-Gd05rSfOGGRrZLAvEU6ORCohMppFPow6L1_9dmeAw&oe=677A50EC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656761	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420570		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=arVAwv0q7qUQ7kNvgHZBV72&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYCd-Gd05rSfOGGRrZLAvEU6ORCohMppFPow6L1_9dmeAw&oe=677A50EC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656758	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420570		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=arVAwv0q7qUQ7kNvgHZBV72&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYCd-Gd05rSfOGGRrZLAvEU6ORCohMppFPow6L1_9dmeAw&oe=677A50EC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656618	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691947	1748420570		2174																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oy1vAKbjbb4Q7kNvgEKUn0w&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYB7KkKVjI93MwbKMq9yf4NK03YM12NW2VdZzoQKW8o3qw&oe=677A7472	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656561	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691946	1748420570		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656461	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420570		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656682	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691948	1748420570		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656885	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691952	1748420570		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106428350250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469696204_475495371786908_3391263084588095715_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=AlpQTqVh_vEQ7kNvgHW6XLf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYBWg5CcPYsaQRRbyf3RLIYv7Juvl_M46321lppYNDfLVg&oe=677A67DB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656752	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420570		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656702	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691949	1748420570		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656749	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420570		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656680	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691948	1748420570		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656733	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 4:04 AM	1735691949	1749805483		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656807	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691951	1748420570		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYBghTC_-ZAyCm726ul_FwOaF4adxdq2NPTxCPjDeZ2PWg&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656716	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691949	1748420570		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=b7Dpqf_BljIQ7kNvgGQpYEn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDHd6tmGRa-haSvvd3jFTGz2RaXc2alO6xmQAWsv-keZQ&oe=677A46EB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656797	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 11:56 AM	1735691951	1749747365		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656796	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 7:06 AM	1735691951	1749729972		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656747	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420570		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656868	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691952	1748420570		2174																										fbweb.kifflire.com	Learn more			IMAGE	Cliquez ici pour en savoir plus👉👉		https://fbweb.kifflire.com/20896410-fb_contact-frp83_2-241203-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=3889292031299494&rawadid=120213961232310239			4.8124148173477E+14	Loving reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469342079_1323781805725873_5319784546763809771_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NEfPITIZNR8Q7kNvgHIIR8K&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYDFu1xUiJr6NkNkx2X8X5Ui8ejGRHjqz33-QboI5X9lmw&oe=677A4F2E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		« Divorçons. » Colton Stevens s'est approché avec impatience. Allison Clarke luttait pour garder son sang-froid. « C'est notre troisième anniversaire de mariage aujourd'hui. » Elle avait passé des heures à préparer une table couverte des plats préférés. Colton s'est moqué. « Quatre millions devraient te permettre de vivre toute ta vie. Melany est revenue. Elle est orgueilleuse, et elle ne supportera pas toute cette situation.» Melany était celle qui tenait son cœur, elle l'avait quitté trois ans plus tôt, rompant leurs fiançailles et partant à l'étranger. Pourtant, aujourd'hui, sur un simple mot de sa part, Colton a facilement accepté son retour et a choisi de divorcer d'Allison sans la moindre hésitation. Le cœur d'Allison s'est effondré. Elle était autrefois une parfumeuse de génie, une pirate informatique de renom. Pendant trois ans, elle avait enterré toute trace de son génie, se transformant en parfaite femme au foyer. Récemment, elle avait obtenu une opportunité rare avec Cobweb, le réseau de renseignement le plus insaisissable, dans l'espoir d'aider la famille Stevens à conclure une affaire cruciale. Pourtant, maintenant, la piqûre de la trahison l'a profondément marquée. Il a jeté un coup d'œil à sa montre, comptant manifestement le temps. « Tu ferais mieux de te préparer et d'engager un avocat... » Il n'a pas pu terminer. « Je sais ce qu'il faut faire », l'a interrompu Allison, la voix teintée de dégoût. Elle s'est replongée dans un souvenir d'enfance où elle était aveugle et en grand danger. Un garçon l'avait portée sur son dos pendant trois jours et trois nuits, lui sauvant la vie. Ce garçon avait dit qu'il s'appelait Colton Stevens. À présent, trois ans après leur mariage, ce même garçon l'obligeait à partir. Le temps transformait parfois les gens en étrangers. « Je vais y aller », a dit Allison en revenant à l'instant présent. Elle s'est levée et a regardé Colton avec fermeté et détachement. « À partir de maintenant, nous ne nous devons plus rien l'un à l'autre. » &6&		Loving reading		761	https://www.facebook.com/61567813351718/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656724	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 4:49 PM	1735691949	1749592198		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=b7Dpqf_BljIQ7kNvgGQpYEn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDHd6tmGRa-haSvvd3jFTGz2RaXc2alO6xmQAWsv-keZQ&oe=677A46EB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656779	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420570		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656670	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691948	1748420570		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656656	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 3:46 AM	1735691948	1749718010		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656863	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 11:53 PM	1735691952	1749185588		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214047077220250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469095123_2118491501900205_153239335510083297_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Lt2HrXPKhXMQ7kNvgGz0631&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYBHnqAeAd08ihil_vNG2Tbj46Y50ciz0YcmBbuj-w3CsA&oe=677A79D4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656596	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691947	1748420570		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656626	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 5:12 PM	1735691947	1749939150		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends...	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469163308_1781805412650370_7853331763014231431_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-Dq6m0jcb2cQ7kNvgHkzTEc&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCg92igpAHpH7rXT3DRKaIiWEAd8kQcv1IAWvR8XJbqSw&oe=677A4D7C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am…I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face...		New world publications		3781	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656685	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691948	1748420570		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656755	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420570		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656600	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691947	1748420570		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656639	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 7:36 PM	1735691948	1749861418		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656406	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 1:29 PM	1735691943	1749234589		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=G6a7vY4vM-AQ7kNvgHlTO55&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYDW0R4r_9abe9DrLQUjc-7EP-6clQckT7vrAmenriWjaQ&oe=677A74AC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656512	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 1:32 AM	1735691945	1749537135		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656602	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 12:06 PM	1735691947	1749575165		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656783	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 5:13 AM	1735691950	1749809590		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656787	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 3:26 PM	1735691950	1749500804		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656768	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 1:54 AM	1735691950	1749538453		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656771	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 5:20 PM	1735691950	1749507633		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656786	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 7:27 PM	1735691950	1749860877		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656516	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420571		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656666	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691948	1748420571		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656585	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691947	1748420571		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656594	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691947	1748420571		2174																										fbweb.kifflire.com	Learn more			IMAGE	Les secrets de l'épouse négligée		https://fbweb.kifflire.com/20896410-fb_contact-frp83_2-241129-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=930975401843871&rawadid=120213957313480403			1.0374783554967E+14	Mobo-Reader：Funny Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469945624_594337349656837_139589883440667506_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0_C453RQWXYQ7kNvgGE_uoA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYApB8pkv_yEOwhtyg7OKxa8VJxLI-L3ToyWqkb3RUaYoQ&oe=677A58F8	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Pendant trois ans, elle a caché son identité et est devenue femme au foyer, mais son mari lui a brisé le cœur, même lui a donné un papier de divorce. Elle est déçue et se détourne pour redevenir elle-même. ===== « Divorçons. » Colton Stevens s'est approché avec impatience, sa frustration étant presque perceptible. « Quatre millions devraient te permettre de vivre toute ta vie. » « C'est notre troisième anniversaire de mariage aujourd'hui, ne pouvons-nous pas au moins terminer ce repas ensemble ? » Le visage d'Allison Clarke s'est figé un instant. Ses ongles se sont douloureusement enfoncés dans sa paume alors qu'elle luttait pour garder son sang-froid. Colton s'est moqué, son regard était froid et distant. « Même après ce repas, je ne t'aimerai jamais. De plus, Melany est revenue. Elle est orgueilleuse, et elle ne supportera pas toute cette situation. » Une lueur de douceur lui a parcouru le visage à la mention de Melany Johnson, une chaleur qui n'avait jamais été réservée à Allison, malgré tous les efforts qu'elle avait déployés pour y parvenir. Soumise à des exigences extrêmes pour lui, elle s'était occupée de ses parents et avait tout sacrifié pendant des années. Mais rien de tout cela ne lui avait valu plus qu'un simple regard. Melany était celle qui tenait son cœur, elle l'avait toujours tenu. Elle l'avait quitté trois ans plus tôt, rompant leurs fiançailles et partant à l'étranger. Pourtant, aujourd'hui, sur un simple mot de sa part, Colton a facilement accepté son retour et a choisi de divorcer d'Allison sans la moindre hésitation. Allison s'est agrippée au bord de la table comme si elle essayait de se stabiliser contre une soudaine rafale de vent. « Ton grand-père est au courant ? » Colton a éclaté d'un rire aigu et moqueur. « Ne crois pas que tu puisses te cacher derrière mon grand-père. Il est à l'hôpital et ne peut pas supporter le stress. Mes parents sont d'accord avec le divorce. En fait, Melany les a rencontrés aujourd'hui même. » Le cœur d'Allison s'est effondré, un froid glacial s'est insinué dans ses veines. Elle était autrefois une parfumeuse de génie, une pirate informatique de renom. Pendant trois ans, elle avait enterré toute trace de son génie, se transformant en parfaite femme au foyer. Récemment, elle avait obtenu une opportunité rare avec Cobweb, le réseau de renseignement le plus insaisissable, dans l'espoir d'aider la famille Stevens à conclure une affaire cruciale. Une telle opportunité était presque impossible à obtenir. Pourtant, maintenant, tout cela ressemblait à une farce cruelle. « Alors, Melany est chez tes parents ? », a-t-elle demandé, la voix cassante. « Naturellement », a dit Colton en souriant, ses traits s'adoucissant comme si la pensée de Melany rendait tout plus lumineux. « Ils viennent même de dîner. Melany s'est toujours bien entendue avec mes parents. Ils ont vanté ses mérites toute la soirée, disant à quel point elle est attentionnée et compréhensive. » « Et vous saviez tous qu'elle allait revenir, mais vous m'avez laissée dans l'ignorance », a murmuré Allison, la voix chargée d'incrédulité. Ses yeux se sont illuminés, la piqûre de la trahison l'a profondément marquée. Attentionnée et compréhensive. Comme c'était ridicule. Les parents de Colton avaient l'habitude de faire les mêmes commentaires à son sujet. Colton lui a lancé un regard impatient. « Ce n'était pas fait exprès. C'est juste que le majordome a oublié de le mentionner. Ne commence pas à créer des drames là où il n'y en a pas. » Il l'a regardée alors, vraiment regardée, et pendant un moment, son expression est passée à celle du dédain. Allison était une femme délicate, à la peau impeccable et aux traits remarquables, d'autant plus que ses yeux étaient clairs et brillants. Mais rien de tout cela n'avait d'importance. Elle était ennuyeuse, et c'était tout. Elle était une femme au foyer idéale, certes, répondant à tout ce qu'il aurait pu attendre d'une gardienne pour ses parents, mais vivre avec elle était étouffant. Chaque jour, Allison repassait les vêtements et préparait les repas avec précision. Sa routine était si prévisible que Colton n'avait jamais à se demander ce qu'elle faisait. Elle était l'image même de la femme au foyer parfaite : entièrement dévouée à la maison. Mais il n'en pouvait plus. « Et que tu acceptes le fait ou pas, tu pars ce soir. » Colton a hésité, réalisant à quel point il avait l'air dur. « Tu peux déménager à la Villa Starfish. Je te laisse la villa, elle est à toi. » En effet, il avait fait des recherches sur Allison. Elle venait d'un milieu rural modeste, avait quitté l'école très tôt et n'avait pas vu grand-chose du monde. Si elle n'avait pas sauvé la vie du grand-père de Colton, elle n'aurait jamais épousé un membre de la famille Stevens. Dans son esprit, lui offrir la villa semblait plus que généreux pour quelqu'un aux origines aussi modestes. Mais le visage d'Allison n'a pas manifesté de gratitude. Au lieu de cela, elle lui a offert un mince sourire froid. « Alors, est-ce qu'elle emménage maintenant ? » Allison se moquait de la villa et des quatre millions qu'il proposait. Elle pouvait gagner bien plus en tant que hacker dehaut niveau. Ce qui lui faisait mal, c'était d'être abandonnée après trois ans de loyauté. Colton a soupiré et a dit : « La chambre au deuxième étage était toujours la sienne. Maintenant que Melany est de retour et qu'elle n'a pas d'autre endroit où loger, je lui ai dit qu'elle pouvait s'y installer. Si tu es encore là, elle se sentira mal à l'aise. » Le silence d'Allison suffisait à l'agacer, car il supposait qu'elle n'était pas satisfaite de l'accord. Il devenait de plus en plus frustré. « N'insiste pas. Tu dois savoir quand c'est assez. » Il a jeté un coup d'œil à sa montre, comptant manifestement le temps. « Maintenant que j'ai déposé ma demande de divorce, nous nous retrouverons à la mairie dans quelques jours. Tu ferais mieux de te préparer et d'engager un avocat... » Il n'a pas pu terminer. « Je sais ce qu'il faut faire », l'a interrompu Allison, la voix teintée de dégoût. Elle s'est replongée dans un souvenir d'enfance où elle était aveugle et en grand danger. Un garçon l'avait portée sur son dos pendant trois jours et trois nuits, lui sauvant la vie. Ce garçon avait dit qu'il s'appelait Colton Stevens. À présent, trois ans après leur mariage, ce même garçon l'obligeait à partir. Le temps transformait parfois les gens en étrangers. « Je vais y aller », a dit Allison en revenant à l'instant présent. Elle s'est levée et a regardé Colton avec fermeté et détachement. « À partir de maintenant, nous ne nous devons plus rien l'un à l'autre. » Colton a respiré, soulagé. « C'est bien. » Comme à l'improviste, la gouvernante, Kaelyn Thorpe, est apparue en haut des escaliers, se débattant avec une valise. « Monsieur, vos parents ont appelé et ont dit que Mme Clarke devait partir tout de suite, alors j'ai emballé ses affaires.... Oh non ! » Avant qu'elle ne puisse terminer, elle a poussé un cri dramatique et a fait semblant de se tordre la cheville. La valise d'Allison a dégringolé les escaliers, renversant ses affaires partout. Chapitre 2 Retour « Mme Clarke, je suis vraiment désolée ! Je n'ai pas fait exprès ! » Kaelyn a descendu précipitamment les escaliers, son visage affichant une inquiétude exagérée. « Peut-être pourriez-vous tout mettre dans un sac pour l'instant ? », a-t-elle ajouté, cachant son dédain derrière un sourire mielleux. Kaelyn méprisait toujours Allison, ne la considérant que comme une pauvre fille de la campagne qui s'accrochait sans vergogne à Colton pour avoir une vie meilleure. Colton a froncé les sourcils de frustration. « Tu es tellement maladroite ! », s'est-il exclamé en jetant un coup d'œil aux vêtements éparpillés. La valise d'Allison contenait si peu de choses, quelques vêtements et presque aucun bijou. Elle n'avait même pas dépensé une grande partie de l'argent qu'il lui avait donné au fil des ans. Elle vivait simplement, frugalement, et cela reflétait le fait qu'elle n'avait jamais essayé de profiter de son statut. Mais l'amour ne pouvait pas être forcé ou simulé. « Les bagages de Melany sont prioritaires. Mets les affaires d'Allison dans un sac de rangement », a ajouté Colton d'un air dédaigneux, en regardant la valise cassée. « Je demanderai à la gouvernante de t'en acheter une nouvelle demain. » Allison a esquissé un léger sourire amer. « Cette valise, c'est celle que j'ai volée aux kidnappeurs quand nous nous enfuyions pour sauver nos vies. Sans elle, nous nous serions noyés à l'époque. » Pendant ces années, elle avait pris soin de cette valise, tout comme elle avait pris soin de leur mariage. Et à présent, tout comme leur relation, elle était brisée. Colton a laissé échapper un rire glacial. « Cette histoire pourrait tromper mon grand-père, mais elle ne marche pas sur moi. » Le souvenir d'avoir été kidnappé quand il était enfant était trop vague, et il doutait toujours qu'Allison ait été avec lui à cette époque. Se tournant vers Kaelyn, Colton a élevé le ton. « Dépêche-toi de faire ses valises ! » « À vos ordres ! », a commencé Kaelyn avec empressement à rassembler les vêtements d'Allison, mais elle a délibérément marché dessus, les salissant par la même occasion. D'un ton maladivement doux, elle s'est moquée : « Mme Clarke, la grand-mère de M. Stevens dit toujours que les gens sont comme des vêtements. Une fois que les vêtements d'une personne sont tachés, on a beau les laver, les marques ne s'effacent jamais vraiment. » Allison faisait toujours preuve de gentillesse à l'égard de Kaelyn, même lorsqu'elle n'était pas obligée de le faire. Après tout, Kaelyn était une parente éloignée de la grand-mère de Colton. Quelques années plus tôt, lorsque Kaelyn avait commis une erreur qui avait failli mettre la famille Stevens en conflit avec Kellan Lloyd, le fils aîné de la famille Lloyd, c'était Allison qui avait aplani les choses. Elle avait négocié un accord avec Kellan, qui était paralysé, afin d'obtenir le terrain nécessaire au projet commercial des Stevens. À l'époque, Kaelyn avait été reconnaissante, presque humiliée. Mais aujourd'hui, enhardie par le vent de changement qui soufflait sur la famille Stevens, Kaelyn agissait comme si elle ne s'était jamais mise à genoux. Tout se résumait à une chose : la faveur de la grand-mère de Colton s'était éloignée, et avec elle, l'attitude de la famille. « Si les vêtements se salissent, tu as raison, il est impossible de les nettoyer complètement », a dit Allison en jetant un coup d'œil à Colton. Elle a haussé les épaules, avec une certaine désinvolture dans la voix. « Donc, je n'en aurai plus besoin. » De toute façon, elle n'avait jamais aimé ses vêtements fades et informes. Ils ne lui avaient jamais convenu. Après avoir dit cela, Alison se retourna et s'éloigna. Sortie de la villa, Allison son téléphone à la main, et avait composé un numéro familier. Lorsque l'appel a été connecté, sa voix était calme, presque légère. « Rebecca, je suis divorcée et j'ai quitté sa villa. Ma maison et ma voiture sont toujours au Vrining. Ça te dérange si je passe la nuit chez toi ? » À l'autre bout du fil, Rebecca Green a passé du silence aux cris de joie en quelques secondes. « Nom d'un chien ! Tu as enfin divorcé de cet i**ot ! Oublie l'hébergement, passons à une fête ! Une fête de célibataires ! » Même à distance, Allison pouvait entendre les rires exagérés de Rebecca dans le téléphone. « Si les gens de Cobweb apprennent que la fondatrice est de retour, les serveurs vont exploser ! » Chapitre 3 Fête de la croisière Dans la villa, Colton son regard tombant sur la table à manger chargée de nourriture. La frustration l'a envahi, d'autant plus qu'il a repensé au souvenir d'Allison je viens de partir plus tôt. Allison était restée calme, mais quelque chose en elle semblait plus froid, plus dur qu'avant, loin de la femme docile et conciliante qu'il avait connue. Mais cette pensée s'est rapidement dissipée. Pour lui, Allison serait toujours cette femme au foyer terne et soumise. Il pensait que sans lui, elle ne serait rien. À l'extérieur de la villa, une Lamborghini élégante s'est arrêtée et une femme en est descendue. « Allison, ma chérie ! » Rebecca s'est précipitée sur Allison et l'a embrassée chaleureusement. « Tu sais, si tu le souhaites, tu pourrais vivre chez moi pour toujours ! » Rebecca, fille unique des propriétaires du Groupe Éternité, possédait pratiquement la moitié de l'horizon de la ville. Trouver un toit pour Allison n'était pas un problème. « Alors, que s'est-il passé ce soir ? », a demandé Rebecca en se rapprochant, sa joue reposant sur le cou d'Allison. « Tu sens encore l'huile de cuisson. Ne me dis pas que tu as encore cuisiné pour ce c**tin ? » Allison a senti le serrement familier dans sa gorge, les émotions montant alors que l'étreinte de Rebecca la réchauffait. « Parlons dans la voiture », a-t-elle dit. Une fois dans la Lamborghini, Allison a commencé à raconter ce qui s'était passé aujourd'hui. Sa voix est restée stable, mais le tempérament de Rebecca s'est enflammé comme une étincelle enflammant du bois sec. « Peux-tu le croire ? Colton s'est fait larguer par Melany le jour de leur mariage, et maintenant il essaie de revenir vers elle en divorçant ? Ils sont faits l'un pour l'autre, deux pois dans une cosse pourrie ! », s'est emportée Rebecca. « Et ses parents ! » Rebecca a continué, sa colère montant comme une tempête. « Tu t'es occupée d'eux pendant trois ans, tu t'es pliée en quatre pour cette famille, et c'est le remerciement que tu reçois ? » Rebecca a continué sa tirade, ses mots comme des balles. « Écoute, il a perdu la mémoire de cet incident dans son enfance, c'est sûr, mais ça n'excuse pas ce qu'il a fait. Tu as plus que payé ton dû ces trois dernières années. Ce n'est plus la peine de faire semblant d'être la femme qu'il veut. Il est temps de laisser le passé derrière toi. » Allison s'est affaissée sur le siège du passager, son regard distant alors que le monde se brouillait devant la fenêtre. « C'est fini. Nous sommes quittes maintenant. » Pendant trois ans, elle s'était modelée à l'image de la femme parfaite de Colton. Elle avait abandonné ses talons, ramené ses cheveux en arrière et s'était contentée de tenues modestes et ennuyeuses, des tenues qu'elle n'aimait même pas, tout cela pour être à l'image de Melany. Mais elle avait beau essayer, elle ne pouvait pas rivaliser avec la femme qu'il aimait vraiment. « Allison, la vérité est que la famille Stevens ne mérite pas quelqu'un comme toi. » La voix de Rebecca s'est adoucie, chargée du poids des émotions alors qu'elle sentait l'épuisement d'Allison. « Le divorce est un processus, mais jusqu'à ce qu'il soit réglé, tu resteras chez moi. Tu es comme une sœur pour moi, de toute façon. » Allison a réussi à esquisser un petit sourire. « D'accord. » Ayant grandi dans un orphelinat, Allison n'avait jamais eu de famille. Mais Rebecca la traitait toujours mieux que quiconque. Leur conversation s'est interrompue lorsqu'elles sont arrivées à un studio de maquillage exclusif. Rebecca a baissé la vitre et a salué avec enthousiasme Mary Brown, une célèbre maquilleuse. « Hé, Mary ! J'ai un petit projet pour toi ! » Allison s'est frotté les tempes en gé**ssant doucement : « Honnêtement, je suis épuisée. Je ne pense pas pouvoir me maquiller ce soir. » « Oh, voyons ! Tu n'as pas l'intention de garder ce look fatigué, toujours en train de l'attendre, n'est-ce pas ? » « Oui... Certainement pas. » « Exactement ! » Le visage de Rebecca s'est illuminé. « Détends-toi et laisse les pros faire leur magie. Ce sont des artistes internationaux de première classe. Ce soir, ils font ressortir la version de toi qui manque au monde entier ! » Trente minutes plus tard, la transformation était incontestable. Presque tous ceux qui l'ont vue dans le miroir ont été momentanément stupéfaits. Les traits naturellement frappants d'Allison avaient toujours été éclipsés par l'épuisement. Mais aujourd'hui, avec une simple touche de maquillage, elle est devenue époustouflante. Ses longs yeux félins, accentués par la juste dose d'ombre, étaient captivants sans être exagérés. Un délicat grain de beauté dessiné au coin de l'œil ajoutait une touche d'audace presque rebelle. Même Rebecca ne pouvait contenir son exaltation. « Voilà... c'est l'Allison dont je me souviens ! » Elle a fait un geste en direction d'une étagère de robes qui était en train d'être apportée. « Chérie, choisis n'importe quelle robe qui te plaît. J'ai tout prévu pour ce soir. Nous célébrons ta liberté sur un yacht de luxe. Je te jure que ce sera une soirée que tu n'oublieras pas ! » Allison l'a balayé d'un revers de main. « Je ne suis pas d'humeur. » Rebecca lui a lancé un regard complice, avec un peu de frustration. « Tu n'es pas d'humeur ? » Rebecca l'a observée attentivement, sentant qu'elle pouvait encore se raccrocher au passé. Il était temps de sortir l'artillerie lourde ! « Tu sais qu'il y aura des parfumeurs internationaux à cette soirée, n'est-ce pas ? Y compris le cerveau du Groupe Charisma ! Ne me dis pas que tu ne veux pas le rencontrer enfin. » Charisma était la marque de parfum la plus réputée du pays. Allison avait croisé le PDG lors d'un concours international de parfumerie. Ses créations n'étaient rien de moins que de l'art. Pour la première fois depuis longtemps, elles lui donnaient une impression de déjà-vu, car elles lui rappelaient le style de sa mère. Mais comme elle, le PDG était une énigme. Il ne s'était jamais montré en public, même lorsque Charisma était devenu célèbre à l'échelle mondiale. Personne ne savait à quoi il ressemblait, pas même aujourd'hui. « D'accord, allons voir. » Allison a fini par céder, sa curiosité piquée. Après tout, elle avait déjà piraté la base de données de Charisma et n'avait rien trouvé. Et quelque chose dans ses tripes lui soufflait encore que ce mystérieux parfumeur pouvait être lié à sa mère, d'une manière ou d'une autre. ...... Que se passe-t-il ensuite? Le nombre de chapitres affichés est limité. Appuyez sur le bouton ci-dessous pour installer notre application et lire les chapitres suivants. (Accéder automatiquement à ce livre en ouvrant l'application) &3&		Mobo-Reader：Funny Reading		39242	https://www.facebook.com/100077707484555/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656592	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691947	1748420571		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656490	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420571		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656488	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420571		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656697	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 11:07 PM	1735691949	1749787677		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656613	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691947	1748420571		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656573	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691947	1748420571		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656572	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 11:06 PM	1735691947	1749874017		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656625	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 1:18 AM	1735691947	1749709129		2174																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oy1vAKbjbb4Q7kNvgEKUn0w&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYB7KkKVjI93MwbKMq9yf4NK03YM12NW2VdZzoQKW8o3qw&oe=677A7472	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656687	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 2:10 PM	1735691949	1749755444		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656621	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 3:30 AM	1735691947	1749889821		2174																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oy1vAKbjbb4Q7kNvgEKUn0w&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYB7KkKVjI93MwbKMq9yf4NK03YM12NW2VdZzoQKW8o3qw&oe=677A7472	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656614	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 8:40 AM	1735691947	1749822034		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656919	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691954	1748420571		2174																											Contact us			IMAGE	SPECIAL PRICING - HARDWOOD OAK SPC WATERPROOF CLICK Flooring at $1.49/SF - Reservoir		https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/427287417030014/			1.0683822091102E+14	Shawn Hames IDeal		REGULAR_PAGE	1					0		SPECIAL PRICING - HARDWOOD OAK SPC WATERPROOF CLICK Flooring at $1.49/SF - Reservoir - $20.00 The beauty of wood with the comfort of knowing that it is WATERPROOF. ***SPECIAL PRICING at ONLY $1.49/SF*** PRODUCT DETAILS: Construction: Water Shield SPC Rigid Core Hybrid Species: Oak Texture: Smooth with Open Grain Floor Width: 6-1/2" Thickness: 5.9mm Length: 48" (4'Nominal) Veneer: 0.4mm (Nominal) Finish: ForeverTuff II Technology Gloss: Semi Edge Style: Bevel Color Variation: High Warranty: Limited 35-Year Residential, Limited 5-Year Light Commercial, Limited 72-Hour Topical Moisture, Limited Lifetime Structural, Limited Lifetime Pet proof Installation Type: Valinge 2G Click System Areas: On, Above, Below PICTURES: Reservoir Lanier This material can be picked up in warehouse locations in Duncanville, Garland, or Arlington. Facebook Marketplace		Shawn Hames IDeal		6	https://www.facebook.com/Shawn-Hames-IDeal-106838220911025/	0		CONTACT_US								View Edit Delete
2656430	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 9:03 PM	1735691943	1749780184		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656399	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 8:30 AM	1735691943	1749821445		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656414	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 1:54 PM	1735691943	1749754486		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656407	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 2:48 AM	1735691943	1749714522		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=G6a7vY4vM-AQ7kNvgHlTO55&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYDW0R4r_9abe9DrLQUjc-7EP-6clQckT7vrAmenriWjaQ&oe=677A74AC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656418	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 6:20 PM	1735691943	1749770447		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656403	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 1:24 AM	1735691943	1749882260		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656630	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 6:28 AM	1735691947	1749814098		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			IMAGE	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468040394_3933977183502200_7038075179489997441_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8rQ59PK6-BoQ7kNvgG-QLeW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDQtWsUNW-UF8D0xwR9ljUxl6f6Tj6eV3pBSe8PWrfO6A&oe=677A5678	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が胃がんと診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、元カノと一緒に彼女の子どもの定期検査をしていた。 病院で、優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらいだ。優子の場合はまず化学治療をしてから手術を行うべきだ。それで浸潤や転移のリスクは防げる。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、ようやく言葉を吐き出した。「ありがとう。」 「何を？すぐに入院手続きをするよ。」 「そんな必要ないわ。治療を受けるつもりはない。」 悠斗は何か言いたそうだったが、優子は軽く頭を下げて制した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 実家の高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗はため息をつき、諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さんは――」 「先輩、父のことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 優子が医学部を中退して結婚したという噂が流れていた。かつては医学部の天才と呼ばれた彼女が、今ではその栄光を失い、荒れ果てた生活を送っている。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては峻介も優子を大切にしていた。だが、彼の元カノ松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。その後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は――母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、もう拒否するつもりはない。彼女は震える手で電話をかけた。 3回目のコールで電話がつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえながら、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。優子の家族を壊した彼が、今里美と新しい家庭を築こうとしている。すべてを終わらせる時が来た。 優子は前のように彼にすがることはしなかった。震える声で呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 優子は目を閉じて言った。「家で待ってるから。」 そう言うと、全力で電話を切った彼女は廊下に吹き込む雨風に濡れながら、袖を噛んで声を上げずに泣いた。 峻介は、電話が切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。一年間、拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今日に限って急に同意したか？それに、彼女の声には涙の気配があった。 窓の外、大雨が叩きつけるのを見ながら、彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が診察室を出た俊介に子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ ずぶ濡れになった優子が家に帰った時、俊介はすでに待ちくたびれていた。スーツ姿でスラリとしたその男は、机のそばに立っていた。整った顔には氷のような無表情。視線が優子に向いた時、暗い瞳には溢れんばかりの憎悪が渦巻いていた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」彼が冷たく尋ねた。 かつて輝いていた優子の瞳は、今は虚ろだった。ただ淡々と答えた。「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 峻介は鼻で笑いながら言った。「お前死んだら、離婚届のサインどうする？」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女は書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類を机に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」 嘲笑を浮かべた彼の顔が、優子の視界を覆った。 かつての優子なら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今はただ疲れ果てていて、ただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、2億円しか要求しなかった。まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 彼は一歩前に進み、彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。 「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。明日の朝9時、市役所で離婚届と書類を持ってきてください。」 そう言い捨てると、優子は俊介の手を振り払って、一人で寝室へ向かった。 暗闇の中で、優子は心の中でつぶやいた。お父さんにこのお金を残せれば、あとは安心して天国の我が子のもとへ行ける… 翌朝、優子が家を出ようとした矢先、電話がかかってきた。「髙橋さん、お父様が突然心臓発作を起こされまして、緊急手術に入りました。」 「えっ？！」優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われ、手にしていた書類を落としそうになった。「すぐに向かいます！」 優子は一目散に病院へ駆けつけたが、手術はまだ終わっていなかった。看護師が書類を差し出してきた。「髙橋さん、こちらがお父様の手術費用の明細書です。」 手渡された明細に目を通すと、記載されていた額は300万円にも及んでいた。 でも通帳には10万円しか残っていない。どうしても足りなかった！ 追い詰められた優子は仕方なく俊介に電話をかけた。電話から聞こえる声には冷たさが滲んでいた。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「髙橋優子、これでおもしろい？」俊介は冷笑を漏らしながら続けた。「お前が突然素直になるわけがないと思ったら、そういうことか。くだらない嘘で俺をバカにしてるのか？」 この男は、嘘だと思っている……。優子は必死に説明した。「嘘なんかついてない！父が急に心臓発作を起こして、手術代が300万円もかかるの……お願い、助けて……」 「死んだのか？」俊介の冷酷な一言が、鋭い刃のように優子の心をえぐった。いくら彼女を憎まれているとはいえ、父上の死を願うなんてひどすぎる。 「まだ手術中……」優子は深呼吸して震える声を押さえ込み、歯を食いしばって言った。「あの慰謝料、先にくれない？絶対に離婚するって約束する！」 電話の向こうから、俊介が鼻で笑う音が聞こえた。「お前の父親が俺の唯一の妹を殺したんだ。あいつがこうなったのは当然の報いだ。金が欲しいなら、あいつが死んでからにしろ。」 プツッ。電話の切れる音が、優子を冷たい現実に引き戻した。充血した目をする彼女の顔には、信じられないという表情が浮かんでいた。「父親が妹を殺した」とは、一体どういう意味？彼と出会ってから、彼に妹がいるなんて話、一度も聞いたことがないのだ！ 2年前、髙橋家が突然破産し、父が植物状態になった出来事が脳裏をよぎる。そして全てが繋がったかのような嫌な予感が、優子の心を冷え切らせた。 ――佐藤俊介、あなたが私を妻にしたのは、もしかして復讐のためだったの？！		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656420	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 6:04 AM	1735691943	1749812687		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656834	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 8:05 PM	1735691951	1749603948		2174																										fbweb.kifflire.com	Learn more			IMAGE	Cliquez ici pour en savoir plus��👉		https://fbweb.kifflire.com/20896410-fb_contact-frp83_2-241129-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1873316979751191&rawadid=120214262141980736			4.8124148173477E+14	Loving reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469196595_1575381436440615_6724117007404114070_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dKfvPom7fYoQ7kNvgGTqdy6&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAIohW3tWa_9kS0p9wRYnh8nhE_0-IhnZ1p9rf-qVGAfQ&oe=677A4F8B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Lorsqu'ils se sont revus, son ex-mari a pleuré et l'a suppliée de se remarier. Mais le magnat des affaires en fauteuil roulant se lève et entrelace ses doigts avec elle : « Tu mérites de la courtiser ?! » ===== « Divorçons. » Colton Stevens s'est approché avec impatience, sa frustration étant presque perceptible. « Quatre millions devraient te permettre de vivre toute ta vie. » « C'est notre troisième anniversaire de mariage aujourd'hui, ne pouvons-nous pas au moins terminer ce repas ensemble ? » Le visage d'Allison Clarke s'est figé un instant. Ses ongles se sont douloureusement enfoncés dans sa paume alors qu'elle luttait pour garder son sang-froid. Colton s'est moqué, son regard était froid et distant. « Même après ce repas, je ne t'aimerai jamais. De plus, Melany est revenue. Elle est orgueilleuse, et elle ne supportera pas toute cette situation. » Une lueur de douceur lui a parcouru le visage à la mention de Melany Johnson, une chaleur qui n'avait jamais été réservée à Allison, malgré tous les efforts qu'elle avait déployés pour y parvenir. Soumise à des exigences extrêmes pour lui, elle s'était occupée de ses parents et avait tout sacrifié pendant des années. Mais rien de tout cela ne lui avait valu plus qu'un simple regard. Melany était celle qui tenait son cœur, elle l'avait toujours tenu. Elle l'avait quitté trois ans plus tôt, rompant leurs fiançailles et partant à l'étranger. Pourtant, aujourd'hui, sur un simple mot de sa part, Colton a facilement accepté son retour et a choisi de divorcer d'Allison sans la moindre hésitation. Allison s'est agrippée au bord de la table comme si elle essayait de se stabiliser contre une soudaine rafale de vent. « Ton grand-père est au courant ? » Colton a éclaté d'un rire aigu et moqueur. « Ne crois pas que tu puisses te cacher derrière mon grand-père. Il est à l'hôpital et ne peut pas supporter le stress. Mes parents sont d'accord avec le divorce. En fait, Melany les a rencontrés aujourd'hui même. » Le cœur d'Allison s'est effondré, un froid glacial s'est insinué dans ses veines. Elle était autrefois une parfumeuse de génie, une pirate informatique de renom. Pendant trois ans, elle avait enterré toute trace de son génie, se transformant en parfaite femme au foyer. Récemment, elle avait obtenu une opportunité rare avec Cobweb, le réseau de renseignement le plus insaisissable, dans l'espoir d'aider la famille Stevens à conclure une affaire cruciale. Une telle opportunité était presque impossible à obtenir. Pourtant, maintenant, tout cela ressemblait à une farce cruelle. « Alors, Melany est chez tes parents ? », a-t-elle demandé, la voix cassante. « Naturellement », a dit Colton en souriant, ses traits s'adoucissant comme si la pensée de Melany rendait tout plus lumineux. « Ils viennent même de dîner. Melany s'est toujours bien entendue avec mes parents. Ils ont vanté ses mérites toute la soirée, disant à quel point elle est attentionnée et compréhensive. » « Et vous saviez tous qu'elle allait revenir, mais vous m'avez laissée dans l'ignorance », a murmuré Allison, la voix chargée d'incrédulité. Ses yeux se sont illuminés, la piqûre de la trahison l'a profondément marquée. Attentionnée et compréhensive. Comme c'était ridicule. Les parents de Colton avaient l'habitude de faire les mêmes commentaires à son sujet. Colton lui a lancé un regard impatient. « Ce n'était pas fait exprès. C'est juste que le majordome a oublié de le mentionner. Ne commence pas à créer des drames là où il n'y en a pas. » Il l'a regardée alors, vraiment regardée, et pendant un moment, son expression est passée à celle du dédain. Allison était une femme délicate, à la peau impeccable et aux traits remarquables, d'autant plus que ses yeux étaient clairs et brillants. Mais rien de tout cela n'avait d'importance. Elle était ennuyeuse, et c'était tout. Elle était une femme au foyer idéale, certes, répondant à tout ce qu'il aurait pu attendre d'une gardienne pour ses parents, mais vivre avec elle était étouffant. Chaque jour, Allison repassait les vêtements et préparait les repas avec précision. Sa routine était si prévisible que Colton n'avait jamais à se demander ce qu'elle faisait. Elle était l'image même de la femme au foyer parfaite : entièrement dévouée à la maison. Mais il n'en pouvait plus. « Et que tu acceptes le fait ou pas, tu pars ce soir. » Colton a hésité, réalisant à quel point il avait l'air dur. « Tu peux déménager à la Villa Starfish. Je te laisse la villa, elle est à toi. » En effet, il avait fait des recherches sur Allison. Elle venait d'un milieu rural modeste, avait quitté l'école très tôt et n'avait pas vu grand-chose du monde. Si elle n'avait pas sauvé la vie du grand-père de Colton, elle n'aurait jamais épousé un membre de la famille Stevens. Dans son esprit, lui offrir la villa semblait plus que généreux pour quelqu'un aux origines aussi modestes. Mais le visage d'Allison n'a pas manifesté de gratitude. Au lieu de cela, elle lui a offert un mince sourire froid. « Alors, est-ce qu'elle emménage maintenant ? » Allison se moquait de la villa et des quatre millions qu'il proposait. Elle pouvait gagner bien plus en tant que hacker dehaut niveau. Ce qui lui faisait mal, c'était d'être abandonnée après trois ans de loyauté. Colton a soupiré et a dit : « La chambre au deuxième étage était toujours la sienne. Maintenant que Melany est de retour et qu'elle n'a pas d'autre endroit où loger, je lui ai dit qu'elle pouvait s'y installer. Si tu es encore là, elle se sentira mal à l'aise. » Le silence d'Allison suffisait à l'agacer, car il supposait qu'elle n'était pas satisfaite de l'accord. Il devenait de plus en plus frustré. « N'insiste pas. Tu dois savoir quand c'est assez. » Il a jeté un coup d'œil à sa montre, comptant manifestement le temps. « Maintenant que j'ai déposé ma demande de divorce, nous nous retrouverons à la mairie dans quelques jours. Tu ferais mieux de te préparer et d'engager un avocat... » Il n'a pas pu terminer. « Je sais ce qu'il faut faire », l'a interrompu Allison, la voix teintée de dégoût. Elle s'est replongée dans un souvenir d'enfance où elle était aveugle et en grand danger. Un garçon l'avait portée sur son dos pendant trois jours et trois nuits, lui sauvant la vie. Ce garçon avait dit qu'il s'appelait Colton Stevens. À présent, trois ans après leur mariage, ce même garçon l'obligeait à partir. Le temps transformait parfois les gens en étrangers. « Je vais y aller », a dit Allison en revenant à l'instant présent. Elle s'est levée et a regardé Colton avec fermeté et détachement. « À partir de maintenant, nous ne nous devons plus rien l'un à l'autre. » Colton a respiré, soulagé. « C'est bien. » Comme à l'improviste, la gouvernante, Kaelyn Thorpe, est apparue en haut des escaliers, se débattant avec une valise. « Monsieur, vos parents ont appelé et ont dit que Mme Clarke devait partir tout de suite, alors j'ai emballé ses affaires.... Oh non ! » Avant qu'elle ne puisse terminer, elle a poussé un cri dramatique et a fait semblant de se tordre la cheville. La valise d'Allison a dégringolé les escaliers, renversant ses affaires partout. Chapitre 2 Retour « Mme Clarke, je suis vraiment désolée ! Je n'ai pas fait exprès ! » Kaelyn a descendu précipitamment les escaliers, son visage affichant une inquiétude exagérée. « Peut-être pourriez-vous tout mettre dans un sac pour l'instant ? », a-t-elle ajouté, cachant son dédain derrière un sourire mielleux. Kaelyn méprisait toujours Allison, ne la considérant que comme une pauvre fille de la campagne qui s'accrochait sans vergogne à Colton pour avoir une vie meilleure. Colton a froncé les sourcils de frustration. « Tu es tellement maladroite ! », s'est-il exclamé en jetant un coup d'œil aux vêtements éparpillés. La valise d'Allison contenait si peu de choses, quelques vêtements et presque aucun bijou. Elle n'avait même pas dépensé une grande partie de l'argent qu'il lui avait donné au fil des ans. Elle vivait simplement, frugalement, et cela reflétait le fait qu'elle n'avait jamais essayé de profiter de son statut. Mais l'amour ne pouvait pas être forcé ou simulé. « Les bagages de Melany sont prioritaires. Mets les affaires d'Allison dans un sac de rangement », a ajouté Colton d'un air dédaigneux, en regardant la valise cassée. « Je demanderai à la gouvernante de t'en acheter une nouvelle demain. » Allison a esquissé un léger sourire amer. « Cette valise, c'est celle que j'ai volée aux kidnappeurs quand nous nous enfuyions pour sauver nos vies. Sans elle, nous nous serions noyés à l'époque. » Pendant ces années, elle avait pris soin de cette valise, tout comme elle avait pris soin de leur mariage. Et à présent, tout comme leur relation, elle était brisée. Colton a laissé échapper un rire glacial. « Cette histoire pourrait tromper mon grand-père, mais elle ne marche pas sur moi. » Le souvenir d'avoir été kidnappé quand il était enfant était trop vague, et il doutait toujours qu'Allison ait été avec lui à cette époque. Se tournant vers Kaelyn, Colton a élevé le ton. « Dépêche-toi de faire ses valises ! » « À vos ordres ! », a commencé Kaelyn avec empressement à rassembler les vêtements d'Allison, mais elle a délibérément marché dessus, les salissant par la même occasion. D'un ton maladivement doux, elle s'est moquée : « Mme Clarke, la grand-mère de M. Stevens dit toujours que les gens sont comme des vêtements. Une fois que les vêtements d'une personne sont tachés, on a beau les laver, les marques ne s'effacent jamais vraiment. » Allison faisait toujours preuve de gentillesse à l'égard de Kaelyn, même lorsqu'elle n'était pas obligée de le faire. Après tout, Kaelyn était une parente éloignée de la grand-mère de Colton. Quelques années plus tôt, lorsque Kaelyn avait commis une erreur qui avait failli mettre la famille Stevens en conflit avec Kellan Lloyd, le fils aîné de la famille Lloyd, c'était Allison qui avait aplani les choses. Elle avait négocié un accord avec Kellan, qui était paralysé, afin d'obtenir le terrain nécessaire au projet commercial des Stevens. À l'époque, Kaelyn avait été reconnaissante, presque humiliée. Mais aujourd'hui, enhardie par le vent de changement qui soufflait sur la famille Stevens, Kaelyn agissait comme si elle ne s'était jamais mise à genoux. Tout se résumait à une chose : la faveur de la grand-mère de Colton s'était éloignée, et avec elle, l'attitude de la famille. « Si les vêtements se salissent, tu as raison, il est impossible de les nettoyer complètement », a dit Allison en jetant un coup d'œil à Colton. Elle a haussé les épaules, avec une certaine désinvolture dans la voix. « Donc, je n'en aurai plus besoin. » De toute façon, elle n'avait jamais aimé ses vêtements fades et informes. Ils ne lui avaient jamais convenu. Après avoir dit cela, Alison se retourna et s'éloigna. Sortie de la villa, Allison son téléphone à la main, et avait composé un numéro familier. Lorsque l'appel a été connecté, sa voix était calme, presque légère. « Rebecca, je suis divorcée et j'ai quitté sa villa. Ma maison et ma voiture sont toujours au Vrining. Ça te dérange si je passe la nuit chez toi ? » À l'autre bout du fil, Rebecca Green a passé du silence aux cris de joie en quelques secondes. « Nom d'un chien ! Tu as enfin divorcé de cet i**ot ! Oublie l'hébergement, passons à une fête ! Une fête de célibataires ! » Même à distance, Allison pouvait entendre les rires exagérés de Rebecca dans le téléphone. « Si les gens de Cobweb apprennent que la fondatrice est de retour, les serveurs vont exploser ! » Chapitre 3 Fête de la croisière Dans la villa, Colton son regard tombant sur la table à manger chargée de nourriture. La frustration l'a envahi, d'autant plus qu'il a repensé au souvenir d'Allison je viens de partir plus tôt. Allison était restée calme, mais quelque chose en elle semblait plus froid, plus dur qu'avant, loin de la femme docile et conciliante qu'il avait connue. Mais cette pensée s'est rapidement dissipée. Pour lui, Allison serait toujours cette femme au foyer terne et soumise. Il pensait que sans lui, elle ne serait rien. À l'extérieur de la villa, une Lamborghini élégante s'est arrêtée et une femme en est descendue. « Allison, ma chérie ! » Rebecca s'est précipitée sur Allison et l'a embrassée chaleureusement. « Tu sais, si tu le souhaites, tu pourrais vivre chez moi pour toujours ! » Rebecca, fille unique des propriétaires du Groupe Éternité, possédait pratiquement la moitié de l'horizon de la ville. Trouver un toit pour Allison n'était pas un problème. « Alors, que s'est-il passé ce soir ? », a demandé Rebecca en se rapprochant, sa joue reposant sur le cou d'Allison. « Tu sens encore l'huile de cuisson. Ne me dis pas que tu as encore cuisiné pour ce c**tin ? » Allison a senti le serrement familier dans sa gorge, les émotions montant alors que l'étreinte de Rebecca la réchauffait. « Parlons dans la voiture », a-t-elle dit. Une fois dans la Lamborghini, Allison a commencé à raconter ce qui s'était passé aujourd'hui. Sa voix est restée stable, mais le tempérament de Rebecca s'est enflammé comme une étincelle enflammant du bois sec. « Peux-tu le croire ? Colton s'est fait larguer par Melany le jour de leur mariage, et maintenant il essaie de revenir vers elle en divorçant ? Ils sont faits l'un pour l'autre, deux pois dans une cosse pourrie ! », s'est emportée Rebecca. « Et ses parents ! » Rebecca a continué, sa colère montant comme une tempête. « Tu t'es occupée d'eux pendant trois ans, tu t'es pliée en quatre pour cette famille, et c'est le remerciement que tu reçois ? » Rebecca a continué sa tirade, ses mots comme des balles. « Écoute, il a perdu la mémoire de cet incident dans son enfance, c'est sûr, mais ça n'excuse pas ce qu'il a fait. Tu as plus que payé ton dû ces trois dernières années. Ce n'est plus la peine de faire semblant d'être la femme qu'il veut. Il est temps de laisser le passé derrière toi. » Allison s'est affaissée sur le siège du passager, son regard distant alors que le monde se brouillait devant la fenêtre. « C'est fini. Nous sommes quittes maintenant. » Pendant trois ans, elle s'était modelée à l'image de la femme parfaite de Colton. Elle avait abandonné ses talons, ramené ses cheveux en arrière et s'était contentée de tenues modestes et ennuyeuses, des tenues qu'elle n'aimait même pas, tout cela pour être à l'image de Melany. Mais elle avait beau essayer, elle ne pouvait pas rivaliser avec la femme qu'il aimait vraiment. « Allison, la vérité est que la famille Stevens ne mérite pas quelqu'un comme toi. » La voix de Rebecca s'est adoucie, chargée du poids des émotions alors qu'elle sentait l'épuisement d'Allison. « Le divorce est un processus, mais jusqu'à ce qu'il soit réglé, tu resteras chez moi. Tu es comme une sœur pour moi, de toute façon. » Allison a réussi à esquisser un petit sourire. « D'accord. » Ayant grandi dans un orphelinat, Allison n'avait jamais eu de famille. Mais Rebecca la traitait toujours mieux que quiconque. Leur conversation s'est interrompue lorsqu'elles sont arrivées à un studio de maquillage exclusif. Rebecca a baissé la vitre et a salué avec enthousiasme Mary Brown, une célèbre maquilleuse. « Hé, Mary ! J'ai un petit projet pour toi ! » Allison s'est frotté les tempes en gé**ssant doucement : « Honnêtement, je suis épuisée. Je ne pense pas pouvoir me maquiller ce soir. » « Oh, voyons ! Tu n'as pas l'intention de garder ce look fatigué, toujours en train de l'attendre, n'est-ce pas ? » « Oui... Certainement pas. » « Exactement ! » Le visage de Rebecca s'est illuminé. « Détends-toi et laisse les pros faire leur magie. Ce sont des artistes internationaux de première classe. Ce soir, ils font ressortir la version de toi qui manque au monde entier ! » Trente minutes plus tard, la transformation était incontestable. Presque tous ceux qui l'ont vue dans le miroir ont été momentanément stupéfaits. Les traits naturellement frappants d'Allison avaient toujours été éclipsés par l'épuisement. Mais aujourd'hui, avec une simple touche de maquillage, elle est devenue époustouflante. Ses longs yeux félins, accentués par la juste dose d'ombre, étaient captivants sans être exagérés. Un délicat grain de beauté dessiné au coin de l'œil ajoutait une touche d'audace presque rebelle. Même Rebecca ne pouvait contenir son exaltation. « Voilà... c'est l'Allison dont je me souviens ! » Elle a fait un geste en direction d'une étagère de robes qui était en train d'être apportée. « Chérie, choisis n'importe quelle robe qui te plaît. J'ai tout prévu pour ce soir. Nous célébrons ta liberté sur un yacht de luxe. Je te jure que ce sera une soirée que tu n'oublieras pas ! » Allison l'a balayé d'un revers de main. « Je ne suis pas d'humeur. » Rebecca lui a lancé un regard complice, avec un peu de frustration. « Tu n'es pas d'humeur ? » Rebecca l'a observée attentivement, sentant qu'elle pouvait encore se raccrocher au passé. Il était temps de sortir l'artillerie lourde ! « Tu sais qu'il y aura des parfumeurs internationaux à cette soirée, n'est-ce pas ? Y compris le cerveau du Groupe Charisma ! Ne me dis pas que tu ne veux pas le rencontrer enfin. » Charisma était la marque de parfum la plus réputée du pays. Allison avait croisé le PDG lors d'un concours international de parfumerie. Ses créations n'étaient rien de moins que de l'art. Pour la première fois depuis longtemps, elles lui donnaient une impression de déjà-vu, car elles lui rappelaient le style de sa mère. Mais comme elle, le PDG était une énigme. Il ne s'était jamais montré en public, même lorsque Charisma était devenu célèbre à l'échelle mondiale. Personne ne savait à quoi il ressemblait, pas même aujourd'hui. « D'accord, allons voir. » Allison a fini par céder, sa curiosité piquée. Après tout, elle avait déjà piraté la base de données de Charisma et n'avait rien trouvé. Et quelque chose dans ses tripes lui soufflait encore que ce mystérieux parfumeur pouvait être lié à sa mère, d'une manière ou d'une autre. ...... Que se passe-t-il ensuite? Le nombre de chapitres affichés est limité. Appuyez sur le bouton ci-dessous pour installer notre application et lire les chapitres suivants. (Accéder automatiquement à ce livre en ouvrant l'application) &5&		Loving reading		761	https://www.facebook.com/61567813351718/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656542	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 3:29 PM	1735691946	1749241783		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656547	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 12:48 PM	1735691946	1749404900		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656548	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 5:38 PM	1735691946	1749681512		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656674	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 1:03 AM	1735691948	1749449006		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656661	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 1:59 PM	1735691948	1749668369		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656689	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 10:27 PM	1735691949	1749526045		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656773	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 12:55 PM	1735691950	1749405349		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656738	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 3:34 AM	1735691950	1749544453		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656731	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 7:02 AM	1735691949	1749816166		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656607	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 4:42 PM	1735691947	1749505369		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656496	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 10:26 AM	1735691945	1749569166		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656601	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 8:38 AM	1735691947	1749821916		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656721	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 7:59 PM	1735691949	1749517166		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=b7Dpqf_BljIQ7kNvgGQpYEn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDHd6tmGRa-haSvvd3jFTGz2RaXc2alO6xmQAWsv-keZQ&oe=677A46EB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656655	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691948	1748420573		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656873	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691952	1748420573		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214135134930250			4.6358262017968E+14	Hello reading-A	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469861452_549410407685196_6823619531131949228_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=sJu5l1ZZMFoQ7kNvgEL03xD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYA8NZTbeJtNBHlaqtyr5uANzMS5zKGpOHhvMS_nJYPhpg&oe=677A621E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-A		2	https://www.facebook.com/61570065204033/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656636	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 1:02 PM	1735691948	1749405752		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656897	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 12:36 AM	1735691953	1749706569		2174																											Contact us			TEXT	12 MM Premium Waterproof laminate click starting at $1.99/sq ft - Rare Vintage & Boardwalk		https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/274886325109378/			1.0683822091102E+14	Shawn Hames IDeal		REGULAR_PAGE	1					0		12 MM Premium Waterproof laminate click starting at $1.99/sq ft - Rare Vintage & Boardwalk - $34.00 I have at least 2,000 square feet of each of these high-quality laminate plank click products that are waterproof. The price is $2.69/sq ft. You can put them in every room of your house. I have two products at this price. The one called Boardwalk has a plank size of 7 1/2" x 47 1/4" and there is 22.09 sf/box. The one called Rare Vintage has a plank size of 7 1/2" x 54 11/32" and there is 16.93 sf/box. These are 12 MM thick and they have an AC4 rating which is outstanding! It has a Lifetime Residential warranty. You can see the corresponding names, colors, and prices below: 1st all 8 colors 2nd Boardwalk Silver Shadow $2.09 3rd Boardwalk Graphite $2.69 4th Rare Vintage Driftwood Oak $2.09 5th Rare Vintage Silverstone Chestnut $2.69 6th Rare Vintage Knotted Chestnut $2.69 7th Rare Vintage Earthen Chestnut $1.99 8th Rare Vintage Fawn Chestnut $2.69 9th Rare Vintage Cedar Chestnut $2.69 You can get this material in warehouse locations in Duncanville, Garland, and Arlington. Facebook Marketplace		Shawn Hames IDeal		6	https://www.facebook.com/Shawn-Hames-IDeal-106838220911025/	0		CONTACT_US								View Edit Delete
2656647	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691948	1748420573		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vVbgWEWv_80Q7kNvgE5MWAN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYBCBtKDcpID1uHaZxjCimRCGhLAeHRqh2UQBQlJSrdp2A&oe=677A7152	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656649	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 8:23 PM	1735691948	1749432222		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vVbgWEWv_80Q7kNvgE5MWAN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYBCBtKDcpID1uHaZxjCimRCGhLAeHRqh2UQBQlJSrdp2A&oe=677A7152	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656709	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691949	1748420573		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XhQmwr05aGcQ7kNvgHQbvMH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDXlm9YcMpbe8R-tXH93kTSsbfiJt11V_RhjVlufTPybw&oe=677A7488	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656449	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420574		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656936	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 12:58 AM	1735691955	1749448735		2174																														IMAGE						1.0482040086357E+14	B&B Theatres Topeka Wheatfield 9	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472233755_930031695888510_6425179976769320525_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ybfsdWPSQmgQ7kNvgGforpq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYA0ob02bplhfJixpBBuDREv24WlXi75fo1Ciqq-39kWfA&oe=677A5322	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		COMING UP! Marquee Night Out - Dry January Mixology Join us on January 9th at 7:30 PM 🎟️ Tickets are available now: https://bit.ly/4gnDX0J 🍹 Sip, savor, and impress in this new year! Learn the recipes and enjoy these exclusive mocktails, then impress your friends with your skills! There are 3 separate mocktails for you: Storyboard- A tropical delight Call Sheet- A citrus-forward and fabulous Movie Star- A Grove 42 sensation Whether you’re a seasoned pro or a complete beginner, this event is perfect for you. Grab your friends and get ready to enjoy a night of delicious fun! *Attendees must be 21+ and will be carded at the event. Taxes and fees still apply*		B&B Theatres Topeka Wheatfield 9		10779	https://www.facebook.com/TopekaWheatfield9/	0										View Edit Delete
2656491	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420574		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656470	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420574		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656508	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 4:43 AM	1735691945	1749462226		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470175300_636437355379679_5074952063242663045_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ZGy6mkRexM0Q7kNvgEerhHo&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCvg7FvfHTAAQf-LbbBU9h16QWokIj5Ldr8Shv0zDFczg&oe=677A5875	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... “Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am…I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face...		New world publications		3781	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656473	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420574		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656480	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 9:38 PM	1735691944	1749436699		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471409999_1574602443196496_1694745847667373680_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9u9dhkVCX7QQ7kNvgHGbctK&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYD0nRRBI-4mAlmh7q8hAGkd8xWLlGbRptEddICQw7u1zA&oe=677A668F	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656884	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 9:17 AM	1735691952	1749478678		2174																										fbweb.lera.mobi	Learn more			IMAGE	Continuar lendo👉👉👉		https://fbweb.lera.mobi/3670409-fb-abtest-70Q.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=241242718481731&rawadid=120216788088090663			1.1921889460562E+14	Lera reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471162437_897108719259379_664051801727055366_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=TSKqZHA7yjsQ7kNvgFdpw3N&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYDN5G042N2zptvrZKXO40-SO-piyLuAYW661lbaFGn6Sw&oe=677A54E2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Para pagar as despesas médicas da avó, ela concordou em vender seu corpo para o CEO, alegando que o relacionamento entre os dois era apenas físico e poderia terminar a qualquer momento. Mas no fim, ele não queria deixá-la ir... ===== -- Senhorita Phillips? Aqui é Heidi Williams. A senhorita foi selecionada para o cargo de secretária temporária na MacGyver & Co. Esperamos pela senhorita na segunda-feira. Amanhã, por gentileza, leve seus documentos até o RH, no mesmo prédio no qual a senhorita fez a entrevista. Seja bem-vinda! -- A voz gentil e amigável de uma mulher falou do outro lado da linha assim que Vasti atendeu ao telefone. -- Oh, minha nossa. é… Obrigada. Obrigada! -- Vasti não conseguiu segurar o sorriso e logo, a ligação foi finalizada. -- Boas notícias, senhorita? -- O idoso que dirigia o táxi perguntou, olhando pelo retrovissor. -- As melhores! Eu consegui um emprego! -- Vasti respondeu, emocionada. "Agora eu vou poder ajudar melhor a vovó!" Vasti Ramona Phillips era com certeza uma moça determinada. Ela conseguiu uma bolsa de Secretariado em Cambridge. Era uma bolsa de 50%, então, ela teve que trabalhar para pagar o restante. Definitivamente o pai dela é quem não iria pagar. O esforço dela era mais para cuidar da avó do que dela mesma. Os pais de Vasti, ou Vee, como ela preferia ser chamada, se conheceram ainda jovens, a mãe dela com apenas dezoito anos. Ela trabalhava na casa dos Scott, quando se apaixonou pelo filho dos patrões. O resultado não poderia ser pior: ela engravidou, foi chutada da casa e Dimas se casou com outra mulher. Como Alissa havia falecido, por um último resquício de moral dele, ele não cortou contato com a avó da criança, Janete. Mas ele não as sustentava, no máximo, dava uma pequena ajuda a fim de que não morressem de fome quando a situação ficava extremamente complicada. -- Meus parabéns! -- ele disse. O carro parou poucos minutos depois e Vasti não conseguia se conter de alegria. No dia seguinte, após ir ao RH, ela decidiu que passaria no hospital e contaria para a avó. Vasti fechou os olhos e se lembrou da conversa que teve com o pai minutos antes. FLASHBACK -- Muito bem, eu vou cuidar dessa velha. Mas você, Vasti, não se atreva a abrir o bico! Se você o fizer, eu juro que eu vou garantir que ela receba outro tipo de tratamento! -- O homem de olhos azuis gélidos falou, com desdém. Vasti abaixou a cabeça, sentindo-se humilhada e impotente. Ela odiava pedir qualquer coisa a ele e evitava ao máximo falar com Dimas Scott. Nem mesmo o sobrenome ele havia dado a ela. --Pode deixar. Eu vou ficar calada -- Vasti prometeu, séria. Ela era a filha bastarda de um homem importante. Se a mídia soubesse que ele teve uma filha e não a assumiu, seria um escândalo e o nome dele estaria manchado. --Ótimo. Agora, pode ir embora! -- Dimas não era o homem mais carinhoso do mundo, mas com Vasti, ele era pior ainda. A moça concordou com a cabeça e se foi. "Mas que inferno! Porém, vale a pena. É pela vovó!", ela pensou, enquanto saia pela porta dos fundos da residência dos Scott, na Blenheim Crescent, e chama um táxi por aplicativo, a fim de voltar para o humilde apartamento que ela alugava, na Acton. Era o bairro mais barato e com facilidade de locomoção que ela conhecia. FIM DO FLASHBACK Uma vez formada, Vasti acreditou que tudo se endireitaria, até que veio a doença de Janete. Os rins não funcionavam muito bem. Não mais. -- Eu vou conseguir um bom trabalho! -- ela prometeu à idosa. Isso foi há quase um mês. Depois de fazer vários bicos, Vasti finalmente resolveu se humilhar para Dimas. Inicialmente, ele se recusou a ajudar, mas quando ela mencionou sobre falar para o mundo todo quem era o pai dela, ele cedeu. Vasti se sentiu baixa ao fazer isso, mas não viu outra alternativa, já que ela não tinha credibilidade suficiente para conseguir um bom empréstimo. Ainda. No dia seguinte, Vasti acordou muito cedo, se arrumou formalmente, pegou a pasta com os documentos dela e foi para a companhia que, pelo menos pelos próximos seis meses, seria seu novo local de trabalho. Ao chegar lá, ela foi direto para o andar do RH e esperou pacientemente na fila. Um homem muito bonito apareceu, passando na frente de todos e indo falar com a moça no balcão, que claramente estava se derretendo por ele. Mas ele não pareceu notar ou se importar. Ao se virar, ele passou os olhos por Vasti. Os olhos verdes penetrantes dele eram incríveis, contrastando lindamente com os cabelos curtos e negros. Por um segundo, Vasti achou que aquele Adonis não poderia ser real e que ele. Ela sentiu uma conexão com o belo homem, até ele virar o rosto com um ar de superioridade e seguir caminho, como se não a tivesse visto de todo. Vasti abaixou a cabeça. É óbvio que um homem lindo daquele não daria a mínima para ela, que possuía uma beleza comum: cabelos castanhos e olhos azuis claros, seu único charme e que, para o desgosto dela, tinha herdado do pai. Ela entregou os documentos dela e, oficialmente, ela era empregada da MacGyver & Co. Temporária, mas era. Ela recebeu um crachá, um kit iniciante de escritório e uma pasta para organização. Os acessos a computadores seriam fornecidos pela própria senhorita Heidi Williams, a secretária a quem ela cobriria nos meses seguintes. Já no hospital, Vasti entrou saltitante no quarto da avó. -- Ora, eu vejo que está muito feliz! -- A idosa falou, sorrindo fracamente. -- Vovó, eu consegui! O meu primeiro emprego na minha área. É temporário por seis meses, mas quem sabe eu não sou aproveitada em outro setor, não é mesmo? -- Parabéns, meu amor! Você sempre foi muito esforçada. Eu estou tão orgulhosa! As duas conversaram sobre os planos futuros e Janete tocou no assunto que a estava preocupando demais. -- Vasti, eu sei que este hospital é muito dispendioso. Você tem certeza de que não quer que eu vá para outro? -- Pode ficar tranquila, Dona Janete. Está tudo sob controle. Eu vou pagar o melhor que eu puder. Sempre. Se ficar muito pesado, eu vejo como faço. Mas a senhora vai ficar boa. -- Minha menina de ouro -- Janete falou e lágrimas escorreram pelo rosto dela. -- Não, vó, a senhora é de ouro. O fim de semana foi uma correria para Vasti . Ela precisava deixar tudo preparado para a semana que ela teria. Segunda-feira o alarme apitou às cinco da manhã. Vasti levantou, grogue, tomou banho, se preparou e desceu. Ela dificilmente tomava café da manhã, ainda mais quando estava super nervosa. Ela não queria arriscar vomitar. Seria humilhante demais uma coisa dessas acontecer no primeiro dia dela. Vasti ainda nem tinha chegado à empresa e Heidi já tinha ligado para ela inúmeras vezes. Era necessário manter a agenda do Sr. MacGyver perfeitamente organizada e atualizada. Vasti precisava saber de absolutamente todo e qualquer compromisso que ele viria a ter. Por mais que Heidi fosse estar com ela pelas próximas duas semanas, ela já queria que Vasti entrasse no ritmo frenético que era a vida do patrão delas. -- Você vai se acostumar. E quanto mais rápido fizer isso, melhor. Estou te esperando aqui! -- Heidi falou pelo telefone. -- Obrigada. Eu não vou decepcionar! -- Vasti falou com confiança. Esse foi um dos motivos de Heidi tê-la escolhido. Além das qualificações, é claro, Vasti tinha uma energia muito boa, era humilde e não parecia do tipo que daria em cima do patrão assim que colocasse os olhos nele. Essa era uma exigência do Sr. MacGyver. A primeira pessoa a recebê-la foi uma morena bonita, de cabelos ondulados e sorriso largo. Melinda Barbosa, era o que se lia no crachá dela. -- Bom dia! Bem-vinda! -- A moça disse, simpática. -- Bom dia! Obrigada! -- A senhorita Heidi já está vindo. E estava, mesmo. Pois mal Melinda terminou de falar, a mulher esbelta de cabelos castanhos apareceu, com seus óculos de aro de tartaruga, que em nada diminuía a sua beleza. Principalmente quando ela sorria. -- Bom dia, senhorita Phillips! -- Bom dia! Heidi a levou para fazer um mini tour pelo andar, que não era pequeno. Alí era a área mais próxima ao Presidente da empresa, a quem Vasti serviria. Outras pessoas trabalhavam ali, como assistentes. A manhã foi muito corrida e Vasti já estava morrendo de fome quando o relógio marcou meio dia. Mas ela precisava ser liberada para o almoço. Então, ela decidiu ir até a copa e beber mais um copo de água a fim de enganar o estômago dela, que já começava a roncar baixo. Ao se virar, ela deu de encontro com o que parecia ser uma parede e o copo entornou em cima dela, molhando a frente da blusa dela. Ela olhou para a blusa, antes de virar para cima e dar de cara com um par de olhos verdes penetrantes. Ele olhou para a blusa dela e, depois, voltou a olhar para o rosto de Vasti. Ele levantou uma sobrancelha e passou por ela ,fazendo uma cara que Vasti só poderia interpretar como nojo. Vasti colocou a mão na frente do corpo e foi para o banheiro. O Adonis era antipático. "De todos os lugares, esse homem tinha que trabalhar no mesmo andar que eu!" Ela se lamentou mentalmente. Antes que ela pudesse se sentar na cadeira dela, Heidi pediu que ela fosse até a sala dela. -- Sim, o que houve? -- Vasti perguntou, após dar uma batida na porta para anunciar a chegada dela. Heidi esfregou as mãos, nervosa e mordeu o lábio. Vasti sentiu um aperto no peito. -- Ah, eu nem sei como dizer isso. Mas… eu apenas sigo ordens, ok? Você está demitida. O sorriso de Vasti foi murchando e murchando. -- Oi? -- Vasti perguntou, sem entender nada. Talvez ela tivesse ouvido errado. -- Eu também não sei o que houve. Mas o patrão disse que não precisa dos seus serviços. Ele parecia irritado… Vocês tiveram algum desentendimento? -- Mas… Isso é um absurdo! Eu não fiz nada de errado! -- Ela reclamou, exasperada. -- Moça, eu preciso desse emprego! -- Eu entendo, mas eu não posso fazer nada. Você ia trabalhar com ele e, por alguma razão que só Deus sabe qual é, o Sr. MacGyver decidiu por não manter você. Eu sinto muito, mesmo. Vasti nunca tinha se sentido daquela maneira. Não, na verdade, ela tinha, sim. Quando ela não fazia nada de errado e, ainda assim, ela levava a culpa, algo que quase sempre acontecia quando ela lidava com a madrasta e com a meia-irmã! Parecia até que o desgraçado do homem era da família dela, da parte de pai. Ela se virou, foi até a mesa que estava ocupando e pegou as coisas dela, tentando ao máximo controlar as lágrimas que teimavam em querer escorrer pelos olhos dela. Mas as mãos de Vasti tremiam. Heidi a olhou com pena. Assim que Vasti entrou no elevador, Heidi foi direto para a sala do patrão dela. -- Por que fez isso com a moça? -- Ela perguntou -- Eu fiz a entrevista, ela tem todas as qualificações. E não só as acadêmicas! -- Não, ela não tem. No primeiro dia que pisou aqui, já tentou me s**uzir! Essas são as qualificações? -- O quê? O que houve, afinal? -- Heidi perguntou. O homem, sentado na cadeira, com uma pose imponente, se inclinou levemente para frente e segurou a caneta dele displicentemente entre os dedos, sem tirar os olhos da secretária. -- O que você ouviu. Ela fingiu esbarrar em mim para que a água que ela levava no copo caísse sobre a blusa, deixando-a transparente. E ficou me encarando com aqueles olhos que eu conheço bem o significado, Heidi. Essa mulher não serve para trabalhar aqui. Ela serve para outro tipo de serviço, não para ser a sua substituta pelos próximos meses! -- Eu custo a acreditar nisso. Ela não me pareceu ser desse tipo. Ela precisa do emprego e não faria isso, porque… -- Heidi tentou argumentar, mas o homem balançou a cabeça e a interrompeu. -- Eu sei do que estou falando. Agora, escolha outra candidata. E,dessa vez, por favor, escolha direito ou eu vou pensar que você está ou fazendo de propósito, ou a sua competência não está no nível mínimo aceitável. Segurando a vontade de bufar e falar mais algumas coisas, Heidi saiu da sala do patrão. Ela tinha certeza de que ele tinha visto chifre em cabeça de cavalo. O pior de tudo era que uma moça que precisava tanto do trabalho, agora estava desempregada. Heidi iria pensar se tinha como ela ajudar a moça, de alguma forma. Talvez conseguir um outro serviço em uma empresa conhecida. Enquanto isso, Vasti voltava para casa, sentindo-se mais do que derrotada. Dizer que ela estava arrasada era apenas uma palavra fraca para descrever o sofrimento do coração dela. Para algumas pessoas, talvez, não houvesse motivo para tanto barulho. Era puro drama, mas ela sabia o quanto isso estava longe da verdade. Perder aquele emprego significava que ela precisaria rezar para encontrar outro logo, ou, mais uma vez, teria que ir se humilhar para o pai dela. Aquilo era degradante. Depois de chegar em casa, Vasti tirou os sapatos, colocou a bolsa na mesinha da entrada e foi para o quarto dela, se deixando cair na cama. E chorou. Por um bom tempo. Então, quando o sol já tinha ido dormir, Vasti se sentou e decidiu fazer uma coisa que ela não fazia com frequência: sair. -- Alô, Nanda? -- Vasti falou assim que a ligação foi aceita. -- Vasti! Nossa, achei que você tinha me esquecido! Como foi lá no trabalho novo? -- Vasti havia contado a Fernanda sobre o novo emprego e esta chegou a chamar Vasti para beber, ao final do expediente, para comemorar. Porém, Vasti, preocupada em não encher a cara e ir trabalhar no segundo dia com ressaca, recusou. -- Eu preciso de um drink. -- Oh, ho. O que houve? -- Fernanda sabia muito bem quando Vasti estava com problemas ou chateada. -- Podemos nos encontrar hoje? -- Vasti perguntou, fechando os olhos e suspirando longamente. -- Claro. Vem pro Shadow -- Fernanda falou. A empresa que ela trabalhava ficava perto da boate e, por mais que fosse cara, o namorado de Fernanda trabalhava lá, o que garantia descontos satisfatórios. -- Beleza. Eu vou tomar um banho, me arrumar e já, já, eu chego aí. --Tá. Assim que a ligação terminou, Vasti se levantou da cama, praticamente se arrastou até o banheiro e tirou a roupa, entrando debaixo do chuveiro. Ela já estava arrependida de ter resolvido sair. Após menos de uma hora, olhando-se no espelho, ela achou que estava aceitável. O vestido era azul marinho, com uma leve camada de brilho, bem sutil. As alças finas do vestido, mais o formato do busto, e o tecido, deixavam Vasti com um corpo de violão e ombros bonitos. Ela estava de cabelos soltos e uma maquiagem leve. Vasti tinha uma altura mediana, em torno de 1.63m de altura, portanto, o salto alto reto preto de sete centímetros não a deixaram imensamente alta, mas seriam o suficiente para que ela ficasse com as pernas lindíssimas e alongadas. Ela pediu um táxi e chegou ao Shadow depois de mais ou menos uma hora e meia que tinha falado com Fernanda. Esta esperava pela amiga na porta da boate. -- Olha só essa gata! -- Fernanda falou e abraçou Vasti --Sorte que você é quietinha, se não, nenhuma garota aqui dentro teria chances, viu? -- Deixa de graça, Nanda. Vamos ao que interessa. -- Não é graça. Você é linda, mesmo. E sim, vamos ao que interessa. Me conta o que houve. Apesar de Fernanda estar vestida com roupas mais de escritório, com a saia lápis e blusa de botão, ela não estava tão diferente de algumas pessoas, ali. Era comum elas saírem do trabalho e irem beber alguma coisa naquele local. As duas foram para uma mesa e pediram seus drinques. -- Eu fui demitida -- Vasti falou por fim, bebendo um pouco do conteúdo do copo dela. -- Mas… -- Fernanda quase cuspiu a bebida dela -- Demitida? Como isso? Ah, não, me conta isso direito! -- Eu sei lá. Eu cheguei, fui trabalhar e tudo estava indo muuuito bem. Até que eu fui beber uma água e esbarrei em alguém. Acho que era algum chefe de departamento, não sei. Mas quando voltei para a mesa, fui chamada na sala da secretária e demitida. Simples assim. -- Isso é absurdo! Mas que homem cruel e sem coração é esse? Você só esbarrou nele! O alecrim dourado é feito de quê? Areia? -- Eu não sei. Só o que eu sei é que estou sem emprego. E eu preciso trabalhar. Você sabe disso -- Vasti disse, cansada. Ela já não queria mais estar na boate. Pela manhã, ela teria que acordar cedo e procurar um novo emprego. -- É, eu sei. Deixa esse velho sacana do seu ex-chefe pra lá. Se você quiser, acho que o Will arranja um emprego pra você aqui. Eu sei que não é o seu estilo, mas… Eu to sem vagas em aberto lá na empresa. -- É sério? -- Vasti perguntou, mais animada. Sim, ela não era do tipo de trabalhar em boate como garçonete ou coisa do tipo, mas ela precisava de uma renda -- Eu aceito! Eu preciso pagar as contas da vovó e você sabe que o meu pai… -- Eu sei. Mas você pode contar comigo. Eu não sou rica, mas… Se eu puder ajudar a tia Janete, ajudarei! -- Obrigada -- Vasti falou sorrindo e tomou o restante da bebida dela, fazendo sinal para o garçom servir mais -- A propósito, o homem no qual eu esbarrei não era velho. Ele é bonitão, até. Se não fosse ser tão ruim… -- Sério? Hmm. Uma pena, mesmo. Tem gente que é bonita por fora, e podre por dentro. Basta olhar pra sua meia-irmã. Aquela bruxa. Sem falar da sua madrasta. -- Nem me fale… As duas beberam mais um pouco e Will chegou até elas. -- Como vão as minhas duas princesas? -- Ele perguntou. Ele era um moreno bonito, alto, com um sorriso encantador. Fernanda o conheceu ainda no ensino médio e eles tiveram os altos e baixos deles, namorando firme quase no final da graduação dela. -- Estamos bem. E querendo dançar! -- Fernanda falou e estendeu a mão para Vasti, que recusou. -- A próxima! -- Vasti falou -- Na verdade, eu preciso ir ao banheiro. Eu já volto! Fica aí com o Will. Fernanda ficou na mesa com o namorado, esperando por Vasti. Vasti estava um pouco tonta, já que não era acostumada a beber muito. Ela foi até o banheiro, mas ele estava ocupado. Ela esperou do lado de fora, mas após alguns minutos, nada de desocupar. -- Oi? Vai demorar muito? - ela perguntou, dando uma leve batida na porta. Ela aproximou o ouvido ao não receber resposta e pôde ouvir um g**ido. Mas era masculino. Vasti olhou para a porta e levantou a sobrancelha, revirando os olhos, em seguida. "Mas que ótimo" -- Por favor! Gente, eu to apertada! Barulho de roupa, zíper e, finalmente, a porta se abriu. Uma loira alta, bonita e com o batom borrada saiu de lá, passando os dedos pelo canto da boca. Vasti sabia o que a mulher estava fazendo. -- Estraga prazeres! -- A mulher disse e passou por Vasti, batendo no ombro dela. "Me poupe!" Vasti pensou, fazendo careta. -- Ah, pois -- Ela acabou falando e se virou para o banheiro, quando deu de cara com aqueles olhos verdes que ela reconheceria de cara. "Mas… Não é possível!" Ele a olhava penetrantemente, com a mãos no bolso da calça e um sorriso de lado. -- Você não desiste, não é? -- Ele perguntou, olhando-a de cima a baixo. Isso trouxe Vasti, que estava olhando para ele de boca levemente aberta, à realidade. Ela franziu o cenho, olhando para ele de maneira incrédula. -- Não entendi o que você tá querendo insinuar -- Ela devolveu o olhar de desdém a ele. Ele zombou, olhando em volta rapidamente, antes de pousar os olhos nos dela, novamente. -- Eu detesto mulher que se faz de sonsa. Se você quer tanto, basta falar. Não tem que ficar de jogos e, muito menos, me perseguindo. Vasti abriu a boca, dessa vez, sem acreditar no que estava ouvindo. -- Como é que é? -- Ela esbravejou -- Você é maluco? Deve ser, mesmo. Porque por sua culpa, eu fui demitida! E eu nem sei o motivo. Foi porque eu esbarrei em você?E agora, não satisfeito, está me acusando de TE perseguir? -- Ela soltou um riso de deboche e o olhou de cima a baixo -- Pra sua informação, eu vim com a minha amiga, que conhece gente que trabalha no local! Essa é a boate que visitamos normalmente. E eu só vim aqui porque precisava espairecer depois de um certo ba**ca prepotente e metido a besta me demitir sem razão! Portanto, é mais fácil VOCÊ estar me perseguindo! Ela sabia que não deveria falar assim com o chefe dela. "Não, não, EX-CHEFE", ela se lembrou. Sim, ex. Isso significava que ela não tinha que segurar a língua dela coisa nenhuma. O homem estava claramente sendo um ba**ca e ela é quem tinha que ficar calada? Já bastava ser humilhada pela família, e agora mais aquela criatura que brotou do inferno? O homem inspirou profundamente, antes de se mover rapidamente. Ele segurou o braço de Vasti e a puxou para dentro do banheiro e fechou a porta. Ela sentiu as costas dela baterem na superfície de madeira e antes que pudesse reagir, lábios quentes e macios tomaram os dela. -- Oh! -- Ela soltou por reflexo. O homem prendeu as mãos dela acima da cabeça dela com apenas uma mão dele, que era imensa, enquanto a outra segurava firme na cintura de Vasti. Ela abriu os lábios com a surpresa e ele aproveitou a chance para beijá-la mais profundamente, arrancando suspiros dela. O joelho dele ficou entre as pernas dela, abrindo-as e dando a ele mais acesso ao corpo dela. Vasti não era de beijar estranhos, mas ela estava se sentindo tão bem… -- Ei! Vasti? -- Uma batida na porta fez Vasti dar um sobressalto. O homem não a soltou de pronto, mas sim aos poucos, deixando as mãos dela descerem. -- J-já vou! -- Vasti gaguejou. Os lábios dela estavam levemente inchados e a respiração entre-cortada -- Me dá um minuto! Eu já vou sair! -- Ok… -- E o barulho do salto de Fernanda se afastando foi ouvido. Vasti olhou para o homem. Ele estava com o cabelo impecável, o rosto próximo ao dela e os lábios meio abertos. Ele deu um sorriso. -- É melhor você ir pra casa, ou vai acabar se atrasando, amanhã -- Ele falou com a voz rouca. -- Atrasar? -- Vasti perguntou, temendo que o cérebro dela ainda não tivesse voltado a funcionar direito. -- Claro. Você é a minha secretária substituta -- Ele falou e deu um beijo rápido no pescoço dela, fazendo com que Vasti suspirasse -- Eu não gosto de atrasos. Ele deu um passo para trás e, segurando na cintura dela, ele a colocou para o lado, a fim de que pudesse abrir a porta. O belo homem deu uma piscada e saiu porta afora, deixando Vasti ainda desnorteada. As pernas dela pareciam feitas de gelatina, mas ela conseguiu sair do banheiro e ir para a mesa onde Fernanda e Will estavam. -- Caramba! O que aconteceu? -- Fernanda perguntou, até que percebeu o estado da amiga. As luzes do local acabaram disfarçando, mas assim que Vasti se aproximou um pouco mais, ela viu. Os l**ios inchados e vermelhos, sem batom, os cabelos bagunçados e a roupa desalinhada. Will também notou e segurou o riso. -- Sua safada! -- Fernanda falou. Mas Vasti não respondeu nada. Ela parecia meio assustada. O sorriso de Fernanda morreu -- Pera aí… Alguém forçou você a alguma coisa? Fernanda se levantou rapidamente, como uma leoa pronta para proteger a cria e olhou em volta. -- Ah, não. Eu... Eu tenho que ir. -- O quê? Por quê? -- Fernanda perguntou. -- Eu não posso me atrasar amanhã. Fernanda olhou para Will. -- Do que você tá falando? -- Pelo visto, eu consegui o meu emprego de volta. Vasti pegou uma nota de dinheiro da bolsa, colocou em cima da mesa, deu um beijo no rosto de Fernanda, que não sabia o que dizer e se foi. Ela apenas deu uma acenada para Will, que correspondeu. -- Sua amiga é maluquinha. -- Eu vou descobrir o que rolou -- Fernanda disse -- Amanhã. Agora, você e eu vamos nos divertir um pouquinho. Vasti saiu da boate e só então se deu conta de que nem sequer havia usado o sanitário. "Excelente! Espero que o táxi não demore…", ela falou para si mesma. -- Uma mulher como você, a essas horas e sozinha… É um tanto quanto perigoso, não é? -- A voz profunda do homem a pegou de surpresa, mas ela se virou devagar para encará-lo. Capítulo 2 Espairecer -- O que você quer? -- Ela perguntou deixando claro que estava sem paciência. -- Isso é jeito de falar com o seu chefe? -- Ele sorriu de lado e abriu a porta do carro -- Entre. Vasti soltou uma risada de zombaria. -- Ah, sim. Claro -- ela falou e puxou o celular dela para pedir um táxi, ignorando o que ele falou sobre ser o chefe dela. -- Entre -- Ele falou novamente, porém mais firme -- Eu falo sério quando digo que aqui é perigoso. -- Muito obrigada, mas isso não é da sua conta. Além disso, você me parece perigoso, também. Não te conheço! Ela falou, seca. Depois do que eles tinham feito no banheiro, entrar em um carro com ele, apenas os dois, não parecia a Vasti a melhor das opções. "Ele é uma t**tação e eu não posso deixar esse p**ife tirar proveito de mim assim!". Ele se aproximou dela e cobriu a mão dela que segurava o celular, mas delicadamente. -- Por favor -- Ele pediu e olhou para ela com o rosto sério -- Vou me comportar. Vasti olhou para ele e para o carro, depois, para a rua. O local era muito movimentado durante o dia, mas não pela noite. E ela sabia disso. O local estava, de fato, meio vazio. Seria burrice ficar ali sozinha. Além disso, havia câmeras ali… Ele não faria nada de errado, certo? Saberiam que foi ele. -- Ok -- Ela finalmente aceitou. Vasti passou pelo homem e entrou no banco do passageiro. Ele fechou a porta para ela e ela atracou o cinto de segurança, esperando que ele entrasse no veículo. Ela não entendia de carros, mas aquele era carro de gente rica, com certeza. Os bancos de couro e o painel cheio de botões touch, além de uma tela de bordo. Ele entrou, cumpriu com os requisitos antes de iniciar a jornada e ligou o carro. Após uns minutos, ele, sem olhar para ela, falou. -- Você é bem rebelde, não é? -- Como assim? Por que diz isso? -- Ela perguntou, curiosa. -- Pela forma como você me respondeu. Não só na sua recusa de agora, mas mais cedo, no banheiro. Ao ouvir a menção do cômodo da b**te, ela corou e olhou para as mãos, mas logo olhou para frente. Ela não demonstraria fraqueza. -- Isso não foi rebeldia -- ela respondeu tranquilamente -- Apenas me defendi. E, na minha recusa, eu não fui rebelde. Não é como se eu devesse obediência a você. -- Ao senhor -- Ele a corrigiu. -- Não estamos no trabalho. "Você". Ele riu. -- Como eu disse, rebelde. Vasti olhou pela janela e viu que estavam perto da vizinhança dela e só então ela se deu conta de algo. -- Ah… Eu não falei onde moro. -- Não precisa -- Ele respondeu, rapidamente, como se aquilo não fosse nada de mais. -- Como não? Vai ficar rodando à toa? -- Eu sei onde você mora, Senhorita Vasti Phillips. Ele lançou um olhar rápido a ela, antes de estacionar perto do prédio dela. Ela o olhou, surpresa. Ele a chamou pelo nome e ela ainda não sabia o nome dele. -- Por que você sabe meu endereço? -- Ela perguntou, pausadamente, sentindo o pânico se instalando dentro dela. -- Você é minha funcionária. Seus dados estão no RH. Ela o olhou, incrédula e apertou os olhos. -- Então, o senhor está me dizendo que sabe o endereço de todos os funcionários que são subordinados ao senhor? Impressionante -- É claro que ela estava sendo sarcástica. O homem se libertou do cinto de segurança e se virou para ela. -- Só dos que me interessam. O olhar dele era, novamente, muito profundo. Ele não desviou os olhos dos dela, mas foi como se ele a estivesse d**pindo, ali mesmo. -- Obrigada pela carona, Sr…? - Ela falou, dando a deixa. -- Boa noite, senhorita Phillips -- Ele repetiu e a olhou seriamente. Ele entendeu muito bem o que ela quis dizer, mas simplesmente a ignorou. Ela deveria saber o nome dele. Ele era o chefe dela. Era, inclusive, ofensivo para ele que a funcionária desconhecesse tal dado. -- Seu nome? Por favor -- Ela insistiu. Vasti sabia que o dono da empresa era o Sr. MacGyver. Porém, ela não sabia o nome daquele homem, ainda que ele trabalhasse no mesmo andar que ela e, aparentemente, fosse um dos superiores. -- Você sabe qual o meu cargo na empresa? -- Na verdade, não. Eu não sei quem é você, além de ser o homem que demitiu e, depois, me disse que eu teria o emprego de volta. Por sinal, como fará isso? Falou com o Senhor MacGyver tão rapidamente a essas horas? Ele se aproximou mais dela e sussurrou no ouvido de Vasti. -- Adônis -- Ele olhou para ela e piscou -- Adônis MacGyver, o Presidente da empresa. O hálito quente dele, a respiração, a fizeram fechar os olhos e suspirar. Ela se recriminou por isso. "Ah, meu Deus… O próprio diabo! Calma, Vasti, calma!" -- Boa noite -- ela sussurrou, colocando a mão na maçaneta da porta do carro, mas ele a parou, segurando-a. -- Eu vou ensinar modos a você, mocinha. É "Boa noite, senhor" -- Ele afastou o rosto e a encarou -- Você vai aprender. Dando um selinho nos lábios dela, ele permitiu que ela abrisse a porta. Vasti saiu do veículo com as pernas bambas. -- E Senhorita Phillips? -- Ele a chamou, fazendo com que ela se virasse -- Lilás! Ele disse, subiu o vidro da janela do carro e se foi. Ela ainda ficou ali, olhando para a estrada, mesmo após o carro já ter sumido. -- Maluco! O que ele quis dizer com "Lilás?" Dentro do carro, Adônis sorria. "Muito bem, ela quer brincar? Vamos brincar", ele falou para si mesmo. "Ela é linda demais! Talvez…" E eu vou dominar você do jeito que você merece... ...... O que acontecerá a seguir? O número de capítulos exibidos aqui é limitado. Por favor, clique no botão abaixo para baixar nosso aplicativo e ler mais capítulos. (Ao abrir o aplicativo, você irá automaticamente para este livro.) &5&		Lera reading		3170	https://www.facebook.com/61550764321146/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656435	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691943	1748420574		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656717	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691949	1748420574		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=b7Dpqf_BljIQ7kNvgGQpYEn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDHd6tmGRa-haSvvd3jFTGz2RaXc2alO6xmQAWsv-keZQ&oe=677A46EB	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2656464	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420575		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656911	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/8/25, 11:36 PM	1735691954	1749443811		2174																											Contact us			IMAGE	Pro Armor 30x9x15		https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/946181524093050/			2.6516612148625E+15	Gus Byrd	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472335546_1848727679200100_9142959520093181751_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Jyz_5cz0bY8Q7kNvgGgjvbW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYDhXEc_JOjHIpv-UdrqNG2TbmXgsFzVUTwfJdQJ7yspqw&oe=677A714E	REGULAR_PAGE	1					0		Pro Armor 30x9x15 - $500.00 Four new side by side tires. The two rims are included but it is missing the others. Facebook Marketplace		Gus Byrd		0	https://www.facebook.com/Gus-Byrd-2651661214862531/	0		CONTACT_US								View Edit Delete
2656912	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 1:21 AM	1735691954	1749882108		2174																											Contact us			IMAGE	2010 Chevrolet Tahoe 4WD 1500LT SUV		https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/2223237874728124/			5.4876362497954E+14	Bruce Schronce		REGULAR_PAGE	1					0		2010 Chevrolet Tahoe 4WD 1500LT SUV - $9,500.00 Beautiful smoke free SUV with 3rd row seating. Extremely Clean Leather Interior, AM/FM Radio, CD Player, XM Radio, Power windows, Bluetooth. Amazing sounding Bose Premium 9-Speaker audio system with subwoofer. 5.3L V8 engine. Well cared for. 6 Speed Automatic Transmission. Carfax immediately available. Facebook Marketplace		Bruce Schronce		0	https://www.facebook.com/Bruce-Schronce-548763624979535/	0		CONTACT_US								View Edit Delete
2656915	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 9:08 PM	1735691954	1749262112		2174																										metarlight.com	Shop Now			CAROUSEL	Great gift for a pilot!		https://www.metarlight.com/product-page/15in-custom-sectional-chart-clock			3.1670065153095E+14	MetarLight	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471915791_1114133537165592_1606478616393046977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cwX6Mamjve8Q7kNvgE210m0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYCqUIKRWtKYM1Pnq_F4KtCG7t-8ZANpSViEAqE6ZuVpYA&oe=677A521E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0				MetarLight		148	https://www.facebook.com/metarlight/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656914	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 12:30 AM	1735691954	1749274227		2174																										metarlight.com	Shop Now			CAROUSEL	Great gift for a pilot!		https://www.metarlight.com/product-page/15in-custom-sectional-chart-clock			3.1670065153095E+14	MetarLight	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471915791_1114133537165592_1606478616393046977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cwX6Mamjve8Q7kNvgE210m0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYCqUIKRWtKYM1Pnq_F4KtCG7t-8ZANpSViEAqE6ZuVpYA&oe=677A521E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0				MetarLight		148	https://www.facebook.com/metarlight/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656941	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 2:11 AM	1735691955	1749453091		2174																														VIDEO						1.068479454058E+14	Joseph Persaud	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471987084_573972682123835_596568986408515207_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oXAScVb6dpEQ7kNvgG2H3Rw&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYA4yf7iFcO3PeYxa8h72BGS5AZ4tbo9GskF6sNN7yVWOQ&oe=677A52DF	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Join us on Sunday for a powerful night to usher in the New Year 2025 on Tuesday night 9:00 pm! @highlight Pastor Joe Persaud Liberty Bible Fellowship Church Jonathan Persaud Sherwin Gardner Zephirinus Emrand Henry Henry #God #blessed #crossover #newyearseve		Joseph Persaud		1287	https://www.facebook.com/PastorJosephMPersaud/	0										View Edit Delete
2656937	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 1:16 AM	1735691955	1749276986		2174																											Send message			VIDEO						1.8662208136119E+15	Pastor Joe Persaud	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471485522_951414936387685_8233758981064645606_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zV-C12gUNeYQ7kNvgGLYLpt&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYBiUav2yAPAYmDxSqQ2cT6x_RAATQFpcUxM3R1v5lUYTQ&oe=677A66A4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Join us at our New Years Eve Service December 31,2024. Hospel artist Sherwin Gardner will be with us along with our own Emrand Henry. Join us 9:00 pm. Pastor Joe Persaud Liberty Bible Fellowship Church Emrand Henry Music Sherwin Gardner Joseph Persaud Jonathan Persaud #God #crossover #deliverance #blessings #jesus		Pastor Joe Persaud		100798	https://www.facebook.com/libertychurchny/	0		MESSAGE_PAGE								View Edit Delete
2656940	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691955	1748420576		2174																										checkout.square.site	Buy tickets			EVENT	Dueling Pianos 1/10/25	https://checkout.square.site/buy/7R4QK45I2DDH54OJY3AYPLQ2	https://checkout.square.site/buy/7R4QK45I2DDH54OJY3AYPLQ2			190819654094	Cardinal Hollow Winery	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470544490_501402655737201_7372643421956977047_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-d3IOiAdGkQQ7kNvgHPumZH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYDiGongmDtgcrWPx3Dp-hRXabs5-KiwFXfsC6nopdDotg&oe=677A7296	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Join us for another fun night at the winery with The Dueling Piano Dudes inside our main party room! These two musicians with dazzling skills and an endless repertoire of tunes, anything is in play from TV theme songs to jazz. Bid on a song and this amazing duo will work your nonstop requests and sing-a-longs featuring swing from the 40s, Doo-op from the 50s, Motown and classic rock from the 60s and 70s, unforgettable pop tunes from the 80s and 90s and even new songs from today! Tickets: $17 per person ($20 at the door) Date: Friday January 10th 2025 Doors open at 6pm Showtime: 7pm - 9pm No outside Alcohol or food. We have plenty of each. Location: Boyd's Cardinal Hollow Winery 1830 West Point Pike, West Point/Lansdale PA, 19486 Please email cardinalwinery@aol.com about seating arrangements for larger groups. Seating is typically first come-first served		Cardinal Hollow Winery		4865	https://www.facebook.com/CardinalHollowWinery/	0		BUY_TICKETS								View Edit Delete
2656944	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/6/25, 8:36 PM	1735691956	1749260179		2174																											Learn more			MULTI_IMAGES						1.0532377599547E+14	Web Online Auctions	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472139634_948587830540633_242615779449949411_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-KEkkGvGaLgQ7kNvgERDtKs&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYACUINm0StuMJlupraMB2MHY8In4-8H677CMzIKZ_z2_A&oe=677A7540	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		ONLINE MACHINERY AND TOOL AUCTION Ending Jan. 15th 7:00pm. Meadville PA 2013 Polaris Razor 4 900 UTV, Mitsubishi 300 4WD Tractor w/loader and 3 pt. Backhoe attachment; Ford 9N Tractor; Ingersoll 48 Hydriv riding lawn mower w/ 3pt. and hydraulics; 41” Hy till hydro tiller; Cub Cadet 129 Hydro lawn mower; Tool Boxes and Hand Mechanics Tools: Snap On chest on chest box w/side tray; 2-Huskey 40x18x20 4 drawer top chests; Craftsman chest on chest; steel Jobsite tool box; Jonsered 20” chainsaw; Husqvarna 460 Chainsaw. And much more!		Web Online Auctions		309	https://www.facebook.com/100095713080817/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656943	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 8:23 PM	1735691955	1749777839		2174																											Send message			MULTI_IMAGES						1.5784805757588E+14	Rock N Roll Tattoo Las Vegas	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471870654_877564600932834_3345577019247327762_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=D_BkQB_HKK4Q7kNvgHR9o2K&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYCoKC7-XIazsZv8Qn7D2vjTeD8MdiUvBnoypdIU9CHlpQ&oe=677A7878	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Almost New Years This weekend special 3pm - 10pm 2 for $40 Walkins only Cash only Larger designs get priority Custom starts $80 Text 702 818 9767 Calls 702 476 1536		Rock N Roll Tattoo Las Vegas		22086	https://www.facebook.com/RocknRollTattooLV/	0		MESSAGE_PAGE								View Edit Delete
2656444	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 12:10 PM	1735691944	1749748219		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2656805	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 11:22 PM	1735691951	1749788554		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656395	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/10/25, 3:20 AM	1735691943	1749543657		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBtbzlYs-G2JxND7uJq45YWFpbJtqPDATeFYgrStQJ4Jg&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656423	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 2:50 AM	1735691943	1749801027		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656672	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 1:20 AM	1735691948	1749709255		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656766	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 1:30 AM	1735691950	1749709848		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656710	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 1:38 AM	1735691949	1749710283		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XhQmwr05aGcQ7kNvgHQbvMH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDXlm9YcMpbe8R-tXH93kTSsbfiJt11V_RhjVlufTPybw&oe=677A7488	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656693	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 9:19 AM	1735691949	1749737977		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656633	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 10:44 AM	1735691948	1749743061		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465737836_457793077328912_8861045446566645248_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yD2yjL5mP2sQ7kNvgEZwegC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYAie27k7anWxTXVJ80NBT1DLblUvE4gvKJly_jx1tIK2w&oe=677A4CCC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... “Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am…I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face...		New world publications		3781	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656739	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 12:19 PM	1735691950	1749748792		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656849	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691952	1748420574		2174																										fbweb.kifflire.com	Learn More			DCO	Cliquez ici pour en savoir plus👉👉		https://fbweb.kifflire.com/20896410-fb_contact-frp83_2-241203-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=3889292031299494&rawadid=120214034065280239			4.8124148173477E+14	Loving reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469126951_929831642041768_4946662884723292667_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NMO0DxF4RBcQ7kNvgGugZih&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYA38LqX40K49B7Igk-9pCz_HlRHLodgn6j3NRpeUYrOuw&oe=677A740A	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		« Divorçons. » Colton Stevens s'est approché avec impatience. Allison Clarke luttait pour garder son sang-froid. « C'est notre troisième anniversaire de mariage aujourd'hui. » Elle avait passé des heures à préparer une table couverte des plats préférés. Colton s'est moqué. « Quatre millions devraient te permettre de vivre toute ta vie. Melany est revenue. Elle est orgueilleuse, et elle ne supportera pas toute cette situation.» Melany était celle qui tenait son cœur, elle l'avait quitté trois ans plus tôt, rompant leurs fiançailles et partant à l'étranger. Pourtant, aujourd'hui, sur un simple mot de sa part, Colton a facilement accepté son retour et a choisi de divorcer d'Allison sans la moindre hésitation. Le cœur d'Allison s'est effondré. Elle était autrefois une parfumeuse de génie, une pirate informatique de renom. Pendant trois ans, elle avait enterré toute trace de son génie, se transformant en parfaite femme au foyer. Récemment, elle avait obtenu une opportunité rare avec Cobweb, le réseau de renseignement le plus insaisissable, dans l'espoir d'aider la famille Stevens à conclure une affaire cruciale. Pourtant, maintenant, la piqûre de la trahison l'a profondément marquée. Il a jeté un coup d'œil à sa montre, comptant manifestement le temps. « Tu ferais mieux de te préparer et d'engager un avocat... » Il n'a pas pu terminer. « Je sais ce qu'il faut faire », l'a interrompu Allison, la voix teintée de dégoût. Elle s'est replongée dans un souvenir d'enfance où elle était aveugle et en grand danger. Un garçon l'avait portée sur son dos pendant trois jours et trois nuits, lui sauvant la vie. Ce garçon avait dit qu'il s'appelait Colton Stevens. À présent, trois ans après leur mariage, ce même garçon l'obligeait à partir. Le temps transformait parfois les gens en étrangers. « Je vais y aller », a dit Allison en revenant à l'instant présent. Elle s'est levée et a regardé Colton avec fermeté et détachement. « À partir de maintenant, nous ne nous devons plus rien l'un à l'autre. » &6&		Loving reading		761	https://www.facebook.com/61567813351718/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656436	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 1:43 PM	1735691944	1749753820		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		New world publications		3781	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656751	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 1:59 PM	1735691950	1749754747		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656472	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 2:35 PM	1735691944	1749756906		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656584	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 2:37 PM	1735691947	1749757044		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656489	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420574		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656750	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 6:11 AM	1735691950	1749726675		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656413	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 9:01 PM	1735691943	1749780107		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=G6a7vY4vM-AQ7kNvgHlTO55&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYDW0R4r_9abe9DrLQUjc-7EP-6clQckT7vrAmenriWjaQ&oe=677A74AC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656695	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 9:03 PM	1735691949	1749780231		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656634	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 9:37 PM	1735691948	1749782245		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465712025_1310177190395026_6626634496023458730_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zX9cHgcyjwsQ7kNvgFzZ-EQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYCvf0F9B63gWngT2K_FP4skXVc5IYaSkPxVcRm74j-WvQ&oe=677A48DC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“Where the f..k is she?” I hear the Beta scream. I already knew Beta Kyle was talking about me, the only servant of the house. I groan and get to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with me. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don’t make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times and only speak when spoken to, even if what they are doing to me hurts. “Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office like you were asked.” Beta Kyle spits at me. The name of my brother makes me shiver. I am Alpha Trey's only sister, yet I was reduced to be his slave while his Beta humiliates me however he likes. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If I could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. I resisted, he was stronger than me and I didn’t need locking up for another week with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” I don’t answer, I know it's a trick, to try and get me to say something so that he can give himself a reason to punish me. I keep my eyes low so that I didn’t have to look at his face. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. Words exchanged between the other pack members when I was in the room. From what I gathered, he was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn’t mess around and he had the largest pack. Also there was this rumor that Alpha Dane had killed all his 9 mates. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. Yet he doesn’t tell me why. We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He places his hands on my shoulders, digging his nails into my thinning skin and turns me around, kicking me in the back as he shoves me towards the office. ”Useless fucking Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Suddenly I hear someone clearing their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” I whisper, getting to my feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. He doesn’t introduce himself either, why should he? “Come forward.” He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey was going to kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I’m told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” I nod, though I couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” I whisper. I couldn’t help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? “Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” I hated the question. “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. I knew why I couldn’t scent him. I knew why I hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something I ever wanted or liked to do. They never let me tell my side of the story. All they do is laugh and mock me. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It’s rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound,” I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn’t interested in that part. He leans forward, carefully placing his glass on the small table next to the chair. I could feel him staring at me, “Why would someone do that?” If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” I whisper. It wasn’t far from the entire truth but it was the simplest answer I could give. There’s a twitch in Alpha Dane's cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me “Neah, what the f... are you doing in my office?” He turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap, it was him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. "Let go off me! It's none of your business" Trey's face turns red. Ignoring Trey's yelling, Alpha Dane says with his eyes set on me, "It is my business if she is to be my bride." I look up, my eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarls.		New world publications		3781	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656624	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 10:09 PM	1735691947	1749784193		2174																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oy1vAKbjbb4Q7kNvgEKUn0w&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYB7KkKVjI93MwbKMq9yf4NK03YM12NW2VdZzoQKW8o3qw&oe=677A7472	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656777	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 10:16 PM	1735691950	1749784596		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656389	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 10:20 PM	1735691943	1749784850		2174																										norvure.com	Shop now			IMAGE	2 in 1 Physical and Chemical Sunscreen Combo SPF50+	40% Off Until Midnight	https://norvure.com/products/peptide-9-2-in-1-physical-and-chemical-sunscreen-combo-spf50-2-pack			1.0499263250923E+14	HeartlyLove	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448134581_1528333388102910_7050010973605501980_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lkN0N6Xj2FAQ7kNvgFVaKBN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYAC-tSFEmYCpMqCZmAarnkGCt7JLDW1lOerDf99uY0Zyg&oe=677A50B7	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🌞 Ready for superior sun protection on the go? 🛡️ Meet Peptide 9 Bio Sun Stick – SPF 50+ and 9 Peptide Complex for youthful skin. 💪 Combines physical and chemical sunscreens for unbeatable UV defense. 🏊 Water-resistant, sweat-resistant, and perfect for outdoor adventures. 😌 Non-greasy, non-sticky – enjoy smooth, comfortable skin without the white cast. 👇Click Below To Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight!		HeartlyLove		746	https://www.facebook.com/100089641703840/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656632	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 12:42 AM	1735691947	1749793342		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466006044_1247243396516530_1252041975292502345_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=WCazzvTp6ecQ7kNvgFB1Kg-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYBJkSyox7yRx6kBasAb2TPVMzbKu7R0omnUeFJUqwwQDQ&oe=677A68EA	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... “Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am…I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face...		New world publications		3781	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656663	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 2:32 AM	1735691948	1749799956		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656856	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/30/25, 5:28 AM	1735691952	1748600895		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106326710250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469695420_911265537395550_3556542538551402168_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=kSt2LQGU8woQ7kNvgGs-31d&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYAyqpdQf8eBMI4fOvzVlbENgnxdBaNmgQtgoWEK7V6nrg&oe=677A4BD1	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656886	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/30/25, 5:28 AM	1735691953	1748600896		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214047103990250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469361785_1318442715820491_6566707869018407277_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MDBK4pX1WkcQ7kNvgGW0VRF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYAhfmPn7cqw_WExkjPyVbAnvs2Q3Qyf25QN8VHy-c4WAw&oe=677A6893	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656890	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/30/25, 5:28 AM	1735691953	1748600897		2174																										9d.hair	Shop now			VIDEO	To give you a chance to change who you are, to get back on top, to get your confidence back.		http://9d.hair/26/?5y69ir2d			1.6097238062456E+14	محمد خيري	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471845324_1129630508511153_8627760914634112588_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mUXPGWhB-0UQ7kNvgGHEn1n&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYDbnzJJSyxq8l8vRsVOsKe-u0iwe74JA8Tpq4eukyw9zA&oe=677A6235	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0				محمد خيري		125	https://www.facebook.com/100063748940186/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656471	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/30/25, 5:28 AM	1735691944	1748600902		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656949	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/30/25, 5:28 AM	1735691956	1748600903		2174																											Send message			IMAGE						1.686736839924E+14	Caring Community Thrift Store	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472135922_1624204915184264_2845671823521200284_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=RI776izBmJIQ7kNvgEFD4jS&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYDDyVkGc0IQKPoGE0KP2FbEQ4pzpUdy1ORublifQ4W_tw&oe=677A56F4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Happy New Years Eve🥂 Friends🥂 We are OPEN NEW YEARS DAY 💥💥💥 9:30-6:00 Come in and snag some NY Deals 😁 📍416 S 65 Business Branson Next to Dollar General		Caring Community Thrift Store		2441	https://www.facebook.com/CaringCommunityThriftStore/	0		MESSAGE_PAGE								View Edit Delete
2656891	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/30/25, 5:28 AM	1735691953	1748600906		2174																										9d.hair	Shop now			VIDEO	😎😎		http://9d.hair/9/?b1853jym			1.1279873695634E+14	Classic Boutique	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472014334_808429154746713_3733925129249227725_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LpyVI1-5VrIQ7kNvgEoJwv9&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYC309VM52vbevGmVgTyrgUm4GFpW9Dg2-kxQKDFNqgiZA&oe=677A452B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		😎𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝑫𝒓.𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒂, 𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝑩𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝑼𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚, 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒔 𝒆𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒖𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒉. ✨ 𝑯𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑𝒔: ✅ 𝑺𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒆 ✅ 𝑰𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕		Classic Boutique		0	https://www.facebook.com/100069845114918/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656412	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 2:01 PM	1735691943	1749495713		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=G6a7vY4vM-AQ7kNvgHlTO55&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYDW0R4r_9abe9DrLQUjc-7EP-6clQckT7vrAmenriWjaQ&oe=677A74AC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
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2656380	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 3:11 AM	1735691942	1749111084		2174																										mypetcanvas.com	Shop Now			DCO	Transform Your Pet's Photo into Vibrant Art!	Trusted by Over 12K Pet Parents	https://mypetcanvas.com/products/basquiat-canvas			1.0388033180679E+14	My Pet Canvas	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/453017146_422292733458631_8129222518644715058_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pLPCox83tawQ7kNvgHRCmql&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AQ0d62V9u_p13RJLMjMgIuS&oh=00_AYDGNizDch3a-zLIc5edPsUB1kUMEP5zh85eSYHadKw0qQ&oe=677A6024	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		🐶 Surprise your loved ones with a personalized portrait of their furry friend! Each canvas is a unique work of art, created with love and attention to detail. Order now at mypetcanvas.com		My Pet Canvas		1530	https://www.facebook.com/mypet.canvas.official/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656386	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/5/25, 11:27 AM	1735691942	1749140869		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			IMAGE	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16865&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471510284_1123968585334988_567416444404452472_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1sRc3QkQ23IQ7kNvgG4iTg8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYCFcWQCtkRCmPH2AT-tIfuJQsi6C0eBHqJWWjLbK52BeA&oe=677A7852	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband Killian arrived late after my grandmother's funeral because he needed to be there for his first love. He looked like he ran in his wolf form. His hair is a mess, and his tie is not even tied properly. He was breathing so fast that he couldn’t even speak. My face turned blank as I locked gazes with him. “Astrid, I couldn’t leave early because I had something I needed to take care of.” My fists balled up at my sides as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Was there anything else more important than to be on your mate’s side at the time that she needed you the most?” I shot back at him. His eyes met mine and for a fleeting moment, a shadow of remorse flickered across his gaze “If only you hadn’t stopped me that night, I would have still met my grandma while she was still alive.” Killian’s grip on the bouquet tightened when he heard my words. “I had no idea I—“ “I kept telling you that my grandmother needed me!” I yelled, interrupting him from his words. “All you cared about is Giselle who is pre9nant with your child.” I blurted out finally releasing all the emotions that I have buried down long enough. Killian could not say a word. My heart which has always been heavy, felt lighter than it was after I finally told him the things that I’ve been wanting to tell him. I glanced at him in surprise when he suddenly crouched down and placed the bouquet of flowers that he brought on the ground where my grandmother had just been buried. “I only came here to pay my respects to your grandmother. I’m sorry if I was late, that was out of my control,” Killian replied like he didn’t just hear the rest of the words that I said. My breath turned shallow and my heart burned more in anger at his heartlessness. Unable to control myself anymore, I picked up the flowers and thrashed them on Killian until the flowers were all shredded into pieces. “You are here to pay respect?!” I screamed at him. I threw what was left of the flowers to the ground. “I’m tired of this. If you can’t give me respect, I should at least give myself some respect,” I spoke in a weak voice as I collected myself together. “Let’s just stop this joke and get a divorce,” I spoke firmly, looking at Killian directly in his eyes.		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656802	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 2:51 AM	1735691951	1749801113		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYAkdjwoxu2vqVIVqQj1foty_ljGddh0AJcale7oumkSPA&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656442	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691944	1748420575		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656434	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 4:45 PM	1735691943	1749505501		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656604	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691947	1748420575		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656552	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 3:58 AM	1735691946	1749805102		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656657	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 6:15 AM	1735691948	1749813334		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656728	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 6:30 AM	1735691949	1749814230		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656934	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 7:41 AM	1735691955	1749818503		2174																											Call now			VIDEO						1.7768324891176E+14	La Favorita, Houston tx	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472208170_449361724903200_4082434086668267127_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cpPcoVOYKUIQ7kNvgGJX0X5&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYCP0G2tx8JNkkWCzPzizd0JydhnhNa0iL8Hc3A_2ESCaw&oe=677A53A2	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Iguanitas de tierra caliente quien no las conoce. Que no opine. Por favor. Son alimentos sagrados PURO BUENO. carnicería la favorita 2. , 11214 veterans memorial , Houston,texas 77067. // horario de 7am to 9 pm tel 281-447-0294 FAVORITA HOUSTON DIRECCION ,14615 old humble rd humble texas 77396 tel 281-441-7777. /////. horario todos los dias de 8am hasta las 8 pm https://www.tiktok.com/@favoritahoustom?_t=8l9bwTeeKDK&_r=1		La Favorita, Houston tx		6218	https://www.facebook.com/100063524562341/	0		CALL_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656534	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 8:32 AM	1735691946	1749821561		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656743	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 11:26 AM	1735691950	1749832001		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656730	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 8:56 AM	1735691949	1749822983		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656907	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 9:38 AM	1735691953	1749825517		2174																											Send message			MULTI_IMAGES						1.0418144246849E+14	Ventas DIARE	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472074397_1823352268436797_2556056085048971301_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=2kpJsmDAQOcQ7kNvgFdkwAf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYCAM1DBqt1vZFILT3gN4yn4hLrcI0RJz7T6syzrhexWBA&oe=677A7074	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Esta y mucha más mercancía podrás encontrar disponible. Estamos en Av Gordiano Guzmán 1125 en la colonia independencia a 4 calles de BBVA de Lázaro Cárdenas. Abrimos de lunes a viernes de 10 a 8 y sábados de 11 a 8. Domingos cerrado. Aceptamos pago en efectivo, transferencia o tarjeta directamente Te esperamos		Ventas DIARE		4695	https://www.facebook.com/100086241163133/	0		MESSAGE_PAGE								View Edit Delete
2656565	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 9:41 AM	1735691946	1749825700		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466339821_8377111545747898_1672242639180555645_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0g2K8FsuHTsQ7kNvgFxVCgH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYAnPJOfHHLzkN5RYRKt58QaL7WZvoAhvFBd0LqKykw6bw&oe=677A4F2D	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... “Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am…I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face...		New world publications		3781	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656857	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 12:00 PM	1735691952	1749834013		2174																										fbweb.lera.mobi	Learn more			IMAGE	Continuar lendo👉👉👉		https://fbweb.lera.mobi/3670409-fb-abtest-70Q.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=241242718481731&rawadid=120216787976630663			1.1921889460562E+14	Lera reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471247232_1147701462930651_7382487337718042643_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bzV9_UnlPZ4Q7kNvgG2tNQL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYC7kTDQkG74UEpNVdMLsaU5thEL0mr7NRrDrYBWECQAig&oe=677A70BA	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Para pagar as despesas médicas da avó, ela concordou em vender seu corpo para o CEO, alegando que o relacionamento entre os dois era apenas físico e poderia terminar a qualquer momento. Mas no fim, ele não queria deixá-la ir... ===== -- Senhorita Phillips? Aqui é Heidi Williams. A senhorita foi selecionada para o cargo de secretária temporária na MacGyver & Co. Esperamos pela senhorita na segunda-feira. Amanhã, por gentileza, leve seus documentos até o RH, no mesmo prédio no qual a senhorita fez a entrevista. Seja bem-vinda! -- A voz gentil e amigável de uma mulher falou do outro lado da linha assim que Vasti atendeu ao telefone. -- Oh, minha nossa. é… Obrigada. Obrigada! -- Vasti não conseguiu segurar o sorriso e logo, a ligação foi finalizada. -- Boas notícias, senhorita? -- O idoso que dirigia o táxi perguntou, olhando pelo retrovissor. -- As melhores! Eu consegui um emprego! -- Vasti respondeu, emocionada. "Agora eu vou poder ajudar melhor a vovó!" Vasti Ramona Phillips era com certeza uma moça determinada. Ela conseguiu uma bolsa de Secretariado em Cambridge. Era uma bolsa de 50%, então, ela teve que trabalhar para pagar o restante. Definitivamente o pai dela é quem não iria pagar. O esforço dela era mais para cuidar da avó do que dela mesma. Os pais de Vasti, ou Vee, como ela preferia ser chamada, se conheceram ainda jovens, a mãe dela com apenas dezoito anos. Ela trabalhava na casa dos Scott, quando se apaixonou pelo filho dos patrões. O resultado não poderia ser pior: ela engravidou, foi chutada da casa e Dimas se casou com outra mulher. Como Alissa havia falecido, por um último resquício de moral dele, ele não cortou contato com a avó da criança, Janete. Mas ele não as sustentava, no máximo, dava uma pequena ajuda a fim de que não morressem de fome quando a situação ficava extremamente complicada. -- Meus parabéns! -- ele disse. O carro parou poucos minutos depois e Vasti não conseguia se conter de alegria. No dia seguinte, após ir ao RH, ela decidiu que passaria no hospital e contaria para a avó. Vasti fechou os olhos e se lembrou da conversa que teve com o pai minutos antes. FLASHBACK -- Muito bem, eu vou cuidar dessa velha. Mas você, Vasti, não se atreva a abrir o bico! Se você o fizer, eu juro que eu vou garantir que ela receba outro tipo de tratamento! -- O homem de olhos azuis gélidos falou, com desdém. Vasti abaixou a cabeça, sentindo-se humilhada e impotente. Ela odiava pedir qualquer coisa a ele e evitava ao máximo falar com Dimas Scott. Nem mesmo o sobrenome ele havia dado a ela. --Pode deixar. Eu vou ficar calada -- Vasti prometeu, séria. Ela era a filha bastarda de um homem importante. Se a mídia soubesse que ele teve uma filha e não a assumiu, seria um escândalo e o nome dele estaria manchado. --Ótimo. Agora, pode ir embora! -- Dimas não era o homem mais carinhoso do mundo, mas com Vasti, ele era pior ainda. A moça concordou com a cabeça e se foi. "Mas que inferno! Porém, vale a pena. É pela vovó!", ela pensou, enquanto saia pela porta dos fundos da residência dos Scott, na Blenheim Crescent, e chama um táxi por aplicativo, a fim de voltar para o humilde apartamento que ela alugava, na Acton. Era o bairro mais barato e com facilidade de locomoção que ela conhecia. FIM DO FLASHBACK Uma vez formada, Vasti acreditou que tudo se endireitaria, até que veio a doença de Janete. Os rins não funcionavam muito bem. Não mais. -- Eu vou conseguir um bom trabalho! -- ela prometeu à idosa. Isso foi há quase um mês. Depois de fazer vários bicos, Vasti finalmente resolveu se humilhar para Dimas. Inicialmente, ele se recusou a ajudar, mas quando ela mencionou sobre falar para o mundo todo quem era o pai dela, ele cedeu. Vasti se sentiu baixa ao fazer isso, mas não viu outra alternativa, já que ela não tinha credibilidade suficiente para conseguir um bom empréstimo. Ainda. No dia seguinte, Vasti acordou muito cedo, se arrumou formalmente, pegou a pasta com os documentos dela e foi para a companhia que, pelo menos pelos próximos seis meses, seria seu novo local de trabalho. Ao chegar lá, ela foi direto para o andar do RH e esperou pacientemente na fila. Um homem muito bonito apareceu, passando na frente de todos e indo falar com a moça no balcão, que claramente estava se derretendo por ele. Mas ele não pareceu notar ou se importar. Ao se virar, ele passou os olhos por Vasti. Os olhos verdes penetrantes dele eram incríveis, contrastando lindamente com os cabelos curtos e negros. Por um segundo, Vasti achou que aquele Adonis não poderia ser real e que ele. Ela sentiu uma conexão com o belo homem, até ele virar o rosto com um ar de superioridade e seguir caminho, como se não a tivesse visto de todo. Vasti abaixou a cabeça. É óbvio que um homem lindo daquele não daria a mínima para ela, que possuía uma beleza comum: cabelos castanhos e olhos azuis claros, seu único charme e que, para o desgosto dela, tinha herdado do pai. Ela entregou os documentos dela e, oficialmente, ela era empregada da MacGyver & Co. Temporária, mas era. Ela recebeu um crachá, um kit iniciante de escritório e uma pasta para organização. Os acessos a computadores seriam fornecidos pela própria senhorita Heidi Williams, a secretária a quem ela cobriria nos meses seguintes. Já no hospital, Vasti entrou saltitante no quarto da avó. -- Ora, eu vejo que está muito feliz! -- A idosa falou, sorrindo fracamente. -- Vovó, eu consegui! O meu primeiro emprego na minha área. É temporário por seis meses, mas quem sabe eu não sou aproveitada em outro setor, não é mesmo? -- Parabéns, meu amor! Você sempre foi muito esforçada. Eu estou tão orgulhosa! As duas conversaram sobre os planos futuros e Janete tocou no assunto que a estava preocupando demais. -- Vasti, eu sei que este hospital é muito dispendioso. Você tem certeza de que não quer que eu vá para outro? -- Pode ficar tranquila, Dona Janete. Está tudo sob controle. Eu vou pagar o melhor que eu puder. Sempre. Se ficar muito pesado, eu vejo como faço. Mas a senhora vai ficar boa. -- Minha menina de ouro -- Janete falou e lágrimas escorreram pelo rosto dela. -- Não, vó, a senhora é de ouro. O fim de semana foi uma correria para Vasti . Ela precisava deixar tudo preparado para a semana que ela teria. Segunda-feira o alarme apitou às cinco da manhã. Vasti levantou, grogue, tomou banho, se preparou e desceu. Ela dificilmente tomava café da manhã, ainda mais quando estava super nervosa. Ela não queria arriscar vomitar. Seria humilhante demais uma coisa dessas acontecer no primeiro dia dela. Vasti ainda nem tinha chegado à empresa e Heidi já tinha ligado para ela inúmeras vezes. Era necessário manter a agenda do Sr. MacGyver perfeitamente organizada e atualizada. Vasti precisava saber de absolutamente todo e qualquer compromisso que ele viria a ter. Por mais que Heidi fosse estar com ela pelas próximas duas semanas, ela já queria que Vasti entrasse no ritmo frenético que era a vida do patrão delas. -- Você vai se acostumar. E quanto mais rápido fizer isso, melhor. Estou te esperando aqui! -- Heidi falou pelo telefone. -- Obrigada. Eu não vou decepcionar! -- Vasti falou com confiança. Esse foi um dos motivos de Heidi tê-la escolhido. Além das qualificações, é claro, Vasti tinha uma energia muito boa, era humilde e não parecia do tipo que daria em cima do patrão assim que colocasse os olhos nele. Essa era uma exigência do Sr. MacGyver. A primeira pessoa a recebê-la foi uma morena bonita, de cabelos ondulados e sorriso largo. Melinda Barbosa, era o que se lia no crachá dela. -- Bom dia! Bem-vinda! -- A moça disse, simpática. -- Bom dia! Obrigada! -- A senhorita Heidi já está vindo. E estava, mesmo. Pois mal Melinda terminou de falar, a mulher esbelta de cabelos castanhos apareceu, com seus óculos de aro de tartaruga, que em nada diminuía a sua beleza. Principalmente quando ela sorria. -- Bom dia, senhorita Phillips! -- Bom dia! Heidi a levou para fazer um mini tour pelo andar, que não era pequeno. Alí era a área mais próxima ao Presidente da empresa, a quem Vasti serviria. Outras pessoas trabalhavam ali, como assistentes. A manhã foi muito corrida e Vasti já estava morrendo de fome quando o relógio marcou meio dia. Mas ela precisava ser liberada para o almoço. Então, ela decidiu ir até a copa e beber mais um copo de água a fim de enganar o estômago dela, que já começava a roncar baixo. Ao se virar, ela deu de encontro com o que parecia ser uma parede e o copo entornou em cima dela, molhando a frente da blusa dela. Ela olhou para a blusa, antes de virar para cima e dar de cara com um par de olhos verdes penetrantes. Ele olhou para a blusa dela e, depois, voltou a olhar para o rosto de Vasti. Ele levantou uma sobrancelha e passou por ela ,fazendo uma cara que Vasti só poderia interpretar como nojo. Vasti colocou a mão na frente do corpo e foi para o banheiro. O Adonis era antipático. "De todos os lugares, esse homem tinha que trabalhar no mesmo andar que eu!" Ela se lamentou mentalmente. Antes que ela pudesse se sentar na cadeira dela, Heidi pediu que ela fosse até a sala dela. -- Sim, o que houve? -- Vasti perguntou, após dar uma batida na porta para anunciar a chegada dela. Heidi esfregou as mãos, nervosa e mordeu o lábio. Vasti sentiu um aperto no peito. -- Ah, eu nem sei como dizer isso. Mas… eu apenas sigo ordens, ok? Você está demitida. O sorriso de Vasti foi murchando e murchando. -- Oi? -- Vasti perguntou, sem entender nada. Talvez ela tivesse ouvido errado. -- Eu também não sei o que houve. Mas o patrão disse que não precisa dos seus serviços. Ele parecia irritado… Vocês tiveram algum desentendimento? -- Mas… Isso é um absurdo! Eu não fiz nada de errado! -- Ela reclamou, exasperada. -- Moça, eu preciso desse emprego! -- Eu entendo, mas eu não posso fazer nada. Você ia trabalhar com ele e, por alguma razão que só Deus sabe qual é, o Sr. MacGyver decidiu por não manter você. Eu sinto muito, mesmo. Vasti nunca tinha se sentido daquela maneira. Não, na verdade, ela tinha, sim. Quando ela não fazia nada de errado e, ainda assim, ela levava a culpa, algo que quase sempre acontecia quando ela lidava com a madrasta e com a meia-irmã! Parecia até que o desgraçado do homem era da família dela, da parte de pai. Ela se virou, foi até a mesa que estava ocupando e pegou as coisas dela, tentando ao máximo controlar as lágrimas que teimavam em querer escorrer pelos olhos dela. Mas as mãos de Vasti tremiam. Heidi a olhou com pena. Assim que Vasti entrou no elevador, Heidi foi direto para a sala do patrão dela. -- Por que fez isso com a moça? -- Ela perguntou -- Eu fiz a entrevista, ela tem todas as qualificações. E não só as acadêmicas! -- Não, ela não tem. No primeiro dia que pisou aqui, já tentou me s**uzir! Essas são as qualificações? -- O quê? O que houve, afinal? -- Heidi perguntou. O homem, sentado na cadeira, com uma pose imponente, se inclinou levemente para frente e segurou a caneta dele displicentemente entre os dedos, sem tirar os olhos da secretária. -- O que você ouviu. Ela fingiu esbarrar em mim para que a água que ela levava no copo caísse sobre a blusa, deixando-a transparente. E ficou me encarando com aqueles olhos que eu conheço bem o significado, Heidi. Essa mulher não serve para trabalhar aqui. Ela serve para outro tipo de serviço, não para ser a sua substituta pelos próximos meses! -- Eu custo a acreditar nisso. Ela não me pareceu ser desse tipo. Ela precisa do emprego e não faria isso, porque… -- Heidi tentou argumentar, mas o homem balançou a cabeça e a interrompeu. -- Eu sei do que estou falando. Agora, escolha outra candidata. E,dessa vez, por favor, escolha direito ou eu vou pensar que você está ou fazendo de propósito, ou a sua competência não está no nível mínimo aceitável. Segurando a vontade de bufar e falar mais algumas coisas, Heidi saiu da sala do patrão. Ela tinha certeza de que ele tinha visto chifre em cabeça de cavalo. O pior de tudo era que uma moça que precisava tanto do trabalho, agora estava desempregada. Heidi iria pensar se tinha como ela ajudar a moça, de alguma forma. Talvez conseguir um outro serviço em uma empresa conhecida. Enquanto isso, Vasti voltava para casa, sentindo-se mais do que derrotada. Dizer que ela estava arrasada era apenas uma palavra fraca para descrever o sofrimento do coração dela. Para algumas pessoas, talvez, não houvesse motivo para tanto barulho. Era puro drama, mas ela sabia o quanto isso estava longe da verdade. Perder aquele emprego significava que ela precisaria rezar para encontrar outro logo, ou, mais uma vez, teria que ir se humilhar para o pai dela. Aquilo era degradante. Depois de chegar em casa, Vasti tirou os sapatos, colocou a bolsa na mesinha da entrada e foi para o quarto dela, se deixando cair na cama. E chorou. Por um bom tempo. Então, quando o sol já tinha ido dormir, Vasti se sentou e decidiu fazer uma coisa que ela não fazia com frequência: sair. -- Alô, Nanda? -- Vasti falou assim que a ligação foi aceita. -- Vasti! Nossa, achei que você tinha me esquecido! Como foi lá no trabalho novo? -- Vasti havia contado a Fernanda sobre o novo emprego e esta chegou a chamar Vasti para beber, ao final do expediente, para comemorar. Porém, Vasti, preocupada em não encher a cara e ir trabalhar no segundo dia com ressaca, recusou. -- Eu preciso de um drink. -- Oh, ho. O que houve? -- Fernanda sabia muito bem quando Vasti estava com problemas ou chateada. -- Podemos nos encontrar hoje? -- Vasti perguntou, fechando os olhos e suspirando longamente. -- Claro. Vem pro Shadow -- Fernanda falou. A empresa que ela trabalhava ficava perto da boate e, por mais que fosse cara, o namorado de Fernanda trabalhava lá, o que garantia descontos satisfatórios. -- Beleza. Eu vou tomar um banho, me arrumar e já, já, eu chego aí. --Tá. Assim que a ligação terminou, Vasti se levantou da cama, praticamente se arrastou até o banheiro e tirou a roupa, entrando debaixo do chuveiro. Ela já estava arrependida de ter resolvido sair. Após menos de uma hora, olhando-se no espelho, ela achou que estava aceitável. O vestido era azul marinho, com uma leve camada de brilho, bem sutil. As alças finas do vestido, mais o formato do busto, e o tecido, deixavam Vasti com um corpo de violão e ombros bonitos. Ela estava de cabelos soltos e uma maquiagem leve. Vasti tinha uma altura mediana, em torno de 1.63m de altura, portanto, o salto alto reto preto de sete centímetros não a deixaram imensamente alta, mas seriam o suficiente para que ela ficasse com as pernas lindíssimas e alongadas. Ela pediu um táxi e chegou ao Shadow depois de mais ou menos uma hora e meia que tinha falado com Fernanda. Esta esperava pela amiga na porta da boate. -- Olha só essa gata! -- Fernanda falou e abraçou Vasti --Sorte que você é quietinha, se não, nenhuma garota aqui dentro teria chances, viu? -- Deixa de graça, Nanda. Vamos ao que interessa. -- Não é graça. Você é linda, mesmo. E sim, vamos ao que interessa. Me conta o que houve. Apesar de Fernanda estar vestida com roupas mais de escritório, com a saia lápis e blusa de botão, ela não estava tão diferente de algumas pessoas, ali. Era comum elas saírem do trabalho e irem beber alguma coisa naquele local. As duas foram para uma mesa e pediram seus drinques. -- Eu fui demitida -- Vasti falou por fim, bebendo um pouco do conteúdo do copo dela. -- Mas… -- Fernanda quase cuspiu a bebida dela -- Demitida? Como isso? Ah, não, me conta isso direito! -- Eu sei lá. Eu cheguei, fui trabalhar e tudo estava indo muuuito bem. Até que eu fui beber uma água e esbarrei em alguém. Acho que era algum chefe de departamento, não sei. Mas quando voltei para a mesa, fui chamada na sala da secretária e demitida. Simples assim. -- Isso é absurdo! Mas que homem cruel e sem coração é esse? Você só esbarrou nele! O alecrim dourado é feito de quê? Areia? -- Eu não sei. Só o que eu sei é que estou sem emprego. E eu preciso trabalhar. Você sabe disso -- Vasti disse, cansada. Ela já não queria mais estar na boate. Pela manhã, ela teria que acordar cedo e procurar um novo emprego. -- É, eu sei. Deixa esse velho sacana do seu ex-chefe pra lá. Se você quiser, acho que o Will arranja um emprego pra você aqui. Eu sei que não é o seu estilo, mas… Eu to sem vagas em aberto lá na empresa. -- É sério? -- Vasti perguntou, mais animada. Sim, ela não era do tipo de trabalhar em boate como garçonete ou coisa do tipo, mas ela precisava de uma renda -- Eu aceito! Eu preciso pagar as contas da vovó e você sabe que o meu pai… -- Eu sei. Mas você pode contar comigo. Eu não sou rica, mas… Se eu puder ajudar a tia Janete, ajudarei! -- Obrigada -- Vasti falou sorrindo e tomou o restante da bebida dela, fazendo sinal para o garçom servir mais -- A propósito, o homem no qual eu esbarrei não era velho. Ele é bonitão, até. Se não fosse ser tão ruim… -- Sério? Hmm. Uma pena, mesmo. Tem gente que é bonita por fora, e podre por dentro. Basta olhar pra sua meia-irmã. Aquela bruxa. Sem falar da sua madrasta. -- Nem me fale… As duas beberam mais um pouco e Will chegou até elas. -- Como vão as minhas duas princesas? -- Ele perguntou. Ele era um moreno bonito, alto, com um sorriso encantador. Fernanda o conheceu ainda no ensino médio e eles tiveram os altos e baixos deles, namorando firme quase no final da graduação dela. -- Estamos bem. E querendo dançar! -- Fernanda falou e estendeu a mão para Vasti, que recusou. -- A próxima! -- Vasti falou -- Na verdade, eu preciso ir ao banheiro. Eu já volto! Fica aí com o Will. Fernanda ficou na mesa com o namorado, esperando por Vasti. Vasti estava um pouco tonta, já que não era acostumada a beber muito. Ela foi até o banheiro, mas ele estava ocupado. Ela esperou do lado de fora, mas após alguns minutos, nada de desocupar. -- Oi? Vai demorar muito? - ela perguntou, dando uma leve batida na porta. Ela aproximou o ouvido ao não receber resposta e pôde ouvir um g**ido. Mas era masculino. Vasti olhou para a porta e levantou a sobrancelha, revirando os olhos, em seguida. "Mas que ótimo" -- Por favor! Gente, eu to apertada! Barulho de roupa, zíper e, finalmente, a porta se abriu. Uma loira alta, bonita e com o batom borrada saiu de lá, passando os dedos pelo canto da boca. Vasti sabia o que a mulher estava fazendo. -- Estraga prazeres! -- A mulher disse e passou por Vasti, batendo no ombro dela. "Me poupe!" Vasti pensou, fazendo careta. -- Ah, pois -- Ela acabou falando e se virou para o banheiro, quando deu de cara com aqueles olhos verdes que ela reconheceria de cara. "Mas… Não é possível!" Ele a olhava penetrantemente, com a mãos no bolso da calça e um sorriso de lado. -- Você não desiste, não é? -- Ele perguntou, olhando-a de cima a baixo. Isso trouxe Vasti, que estava olhando para ele de boca levemente aberta, à realidade. Ela franziu o cenho, olhando para ele de maneira incrédula. -- Não entendi o que você tá querendo insinuar -- Ela devolveu o olhar de desdém a ele. Ele zombou, olhando em volta rapidamente, antes de pousar os olhos nos dela, novamente. -- Eu detesto mulher que se faz de sonsa. Se você quer tanto, basta falar. Não tem que ficar de jogos e, muito menos, me perseguindo. Vasti abriu a boca, dessa vez, sem acreditar no que estava ouvindo. -- Como é que é? -- Ela esbravejou -- Você é maluco? Deve ser, mesmo. Porque por sua culpa, eu fui demitida! E eu nem sei o motivo. Foi porque eu esbarrei em você?E agora, não satisfeito, está me acusando de TE perseguir? -- Ela soltou um riso de deboche e o olhou de cima a baixo -- Pra sua informação, eu vim com a minha amiga, que conhece gente que trabalha no local! Essa é a boate que visitamos normalmente. E eu só vim aqui porque precisava espairecer depois de um certo ba**ca prepotente e metido a besta me demitir sem razão! Portanto, é mais fácil VOCÊ estar me perseguindo! Ela sabia que não deveria falar assim com o chefe dela. "Não, não, EX-CHEFE", ela se lembrou. Sim, ex. Isso significava que ela não tinha que segurar a língua dela coisa nenhuma. O homem estava claramente sendo um ba**ca e ela é quem tinha que ficar calada? Já bastava ser humilhada pela família, e agora mais aquela criatura que brotou do inferno? O homem inspirou profundamente, antes de se mover rapidamente. Ele segurou o braço de Vasti e a puxou para dentro do banheiro e fechou a porta. Ela sentiu as costas dela baterem na superfície de madeira e antes que pudesse reagir, lábios quentes e macios tomaram os dela. -- Oh! -- Ela soltou por reflexo. O homem prendeu as mãos dela acima da cabeça dela com apenas uma mão dele, que era imensa, enquanto a outra segurava firme na cintura de Vasti. Ela abriu os lábios com a surpresa e ele aproveitou a chance para beijá-la mais profundamente, arrancando suspiros dela. O joelho dele ficou entre as pernas dela, abrindo-as e dando a ele mais acesso ao corpo dela. Vasti não era de beijar estranhos, mas ela estava se sentindo tão bem… -- Ei! Vasti? -- Uma batida na porta fez Vasti dar um sobressalto. O homem não a soltou de pronto, mas sim aos poucos, deixando as mãos dela descerem. -- J-já vou! -- Vasti gaguejou. Os lábios dela estavam levemente inchados e a respiração entre-cortada -- Me dá um minuto! Eu já vou sair! -- Ok… -- E o barulho do salto de Fernanda se afastando foi ouvido. Vasti olhou para o homem. Ele estava com o cabelo impecável, o rosto próximo ao dela e os lábios meio abertos. Ele deu um sorriso. -- É melhor você ir pra casa, ou vai acabar se atrasando, amanhã -- Ele falou com a voz rouca. -- Atrasar? -- Vasti perguntou, temendo que o cérebro dela ainda não tivesse voltado a funcionar direito. -- Claro. Você é a minha secretária substituta -- Ele falou e deu um beijo rápido no pescoço dela, fazendo com que Vasti suspirasse -- Eu não gosto de atrasos. Ele deu um passo para trás e, segurando na cintura dela, ele a colocou para o lado, a fim de que pudesse abrir a porta. O belo homem deu uma piscada e saiu porta afora, deixando Vasti ainda desnorteada. As pernas dela pareciam feitas de gelatina, mas ela conseguiu sair do banheiro e ir para a mesa onde Fernanda e Will estavam. -- Caramba! O que aconteceu? -- Fernanda perguntou, até que percebeu o estado da amiga. As luzes do local acabaram disfarçando, mas assim que Vasti se aproximou um pouco mais, ela viu. Os l**ios inchados e vermelhos, sem batom, os cabelos bagunçados e a roupa desalinhada. Will também notou e segurou o riso. -- Sua safada! -- Fernanda falou. Mas Vasti não respondeu nada. Ela parecia meio assustada. O sorriso de Fernanda morreu -- Pera aí… Alguém forçou você a alguma coisa? Fernanda se levantou rapidamente, como uma leoa pronta para proteger a cria e olhou em volta. -- Ah, não. Eu... Eu tenho que ir. -- O quê? Por quê? -- Fernanda perguntou. -- Eu não posso me atrasar amanhã. Fernanda olhou para Will. -- Do que você tá falando? -- Pelo visto, eu consegui o meu emprego de volta. Vasti pegou uma nota de dinheiro da bolsa, colocou em cima da mesa, deu um beijo no rosto de Fernanda, que não sabia o que dizer e se foi. Ela apenas deu uma acenada para Will, que correspondeu. -- Sua amiga é maluquinha. -- Eu vou descobrir o que rolou -- Fernanda disse -- Amanhã. Agora, você e eu vamos nos divertir um pouquinho. Vasti saiu da boate e só então se deu conta de que nem sequer havia usado o sanitário. "Excelente! Espero que o táxi não demore…", ela falou para si mesma. -- Uma mulher como você, a essas horas e sozinha… É um tanto quanto perigoso, não é? -- A voz profunda do homem a pegou de surpresa, mas ela se virou devagar para encará-lo. Capítulo 2 Espairecer -- O que você quer? -- Ela perguntou deixando claro que estava sem paciência. -- Isso é jeito de falar com o seu chefe? -- Ele sorriu de lado e abriu a porta do carro -- Entre. Vasti soltou uma risada de zombaria. -- Ah, sim. Claro -- ela falou e puxou o celular dela para pedir um táxi, ignorando o que ele falou sobre ser o chefe dela. -- Entre -- Ele falou novamente, porém mais firme -- Eu falo sério quando digo que aqui é perigoso. -- Muito obrigada, mas isso não é da sua conta. Além disso, você me parece perigoso, também. Não te conheço! Ela falou, seca. Depois do que eles tinham feito no banheiro, entrar em um carro com ele, apenas os dois, não parecia a Vasti a melhor das opções. "Ele é uma t**tação e eu não posso deixar esse p**ife tirar proveito de mim assim!". Ele se aproximou dela e cobriu a mão dela que segurava o celular, mas delicadamente. -- Por favor -- Ele pediu e olhou para ela com o rosto sério -- Vou me comportar. Vasti olhou para ele e para o carro, depois, para a rua. O local era muito movimentado durante o dia, mas não pela noite. E ela sabia disso. O local estava, de fato, meio vazio. Seria burrice ficar ali sozinha. Além disso, havia câmeras ali… Ele não faria nada de errado, certo? Saberiam que foi ele. -- Ok -- Ela finalmente aceitou. Vasti passou pelo homem e entrou no banco do passageiro. Ele fechou a porta para ela e ela atracou o cinto de segurança, esperando que ele entrasse no veículo. Ela não entendia de carros, mas aquele era carro de gente rica, com certeza. Os bancos de couro e o painel cheio de botões touch, além de uma tela de bordo. Ele entrou, cumpriu com os requisitos antes de iniciar a jornada e ligou o carro. Após uns minutos, ele, sem olhar para ela, falou. -- Você é bem rebelde, não é? -- Como assim? Por que diz isso? -- Ela perguntou, curiosa. -- Pela forma como você me respondeu. Não só na sua recusa de agora, mas mais cedo, no banheiro. Ao ouvir a menção do cômodo da b**te, ela corou e olhou para as mãos, mas logo olhou para frente. Ela não demonstraria fraqueza. -- Isso não foi rebeldia -- ela respondeu tranquilamente -- Apenas me defendi. E, na minha recusa, eu não fui rebelde. Não é como se eu devesse obediência a você. -- Ao senhor -- Ele a corrigiu. -- Não estamos no trabalho. "Você". Ele riu. -- Como eu disse, rebelde. Vasti olhou pela janela e viu que estavam perto da vizinhança dela e só então ela se deu conta de algo. -- Ah… Eu não falei onde moro. -- Não precisa -- Ele respondeu, rapidamente, como se aquilo não fosse nada de mais. -- Como não? Vai ficar rodando à toa? -- Eu sei onde você mora, Senhorita Vasti Phillips. Ele lançou um olhar rápido a ela, antes de estacionar perto do prédio dela. Ela o olhou, surpresa. Ele a chamou pelo nome e ela ainda não sabia o nome dele. -- Por que você sabe meu endereço? -- Ela perguntou, pausadamente, sentindo o pânico se instalando dentro dela. -- Você é minha funcionária. Seus dados estão no RH. Ela o olhou, incrédula e apertou os olhos. -- Então, o senhor está me dizendo que sabe o endereço de todos os funcionários que são subordinados ao senhor? Impressionante -- É claro que ela estava sendo sarcástica. O homem se libertou do cinto de segurança e se virou para ela. -- Só dos que me interessam. O olhar dele era, novamente, muito profundo. Ele não desviou os olhos dos dela, mas foi como se ele a estivesse d**pindo, ali mesmo. -- Obrigada pela carona, Sr…? - Ela falou, dando a deixa. -- Boa noite, senhorita Phillips -- Ele repetiu e a olhou seriamente. Ele entendeu muito bem o que ela quis dizer, mas simplesmente a ignorou. Ela deveria saber o nome dele. Ele era o chefe dela. Era, inclusive, ofensivo para ele que a funcionária desconhecesse tal dado. -- Seu nome? Por favor -- Ela insistiu. Vasti sabia que o dono da empresa era o Sr. MacGyver. Porém, ela não sabia o nome daquele homem, ainda que ele trabalhasse no mesmo andar que ela e, aparentemente, fosse um dos superiores. -- Você sabe qual o meu cargo na empresa? -- Na verdade, não. Eu não sei quem é você, além de ser o homem que demitiu e, depois, me disse que eu teria o emprego de volta. Por sinal, como fará isso? Falou com o Senhor MacGyver tão rapidamente a essas horas? Ele se aproximou mais dela e sussurrou no ouvido de Vasti. -- Adônis -- Ele olhou para ela e piscou -- Adônis MacGyver, o Presidente da empresa. O hálito quente dele, a respiração, a fizeram fechar os olhos e suspirar. Ela se recriminou por isso. "Ah, meu Deus… O próprio diabo! Calma, Vasti, calma!" -- Boa noite -- ela sussurrou, colocando a mão na maçaneta da porta do carro, mas ele a parou, segurando-a. -- Eu vou ensinar modos a você, mocinha. É "Boa noite, senhor" -- Ele afastou o rosto e a encarou -- Você vai aprender. Dando um selinho nos lábios dela, ele permitiu que ela abrisse a porta. Vasti saiu do veículo com as pernas bambas. -- E Senhorita Phillips? -- Ele a chamou, fazendo com que ela se virasse -- Lilás! Ele disse, subiu o vidro da janela do carro e se foi. Ela ainda ficou ali, olhando para a estrada, mesmo após o carro já ter sumido. -- Maluco! O que ele quis dizer com "Lilás?" Dentro do carro, Adônis sorria. "Muito bem, ela quer brincar? Vamos brincar", ele falou para si mesmo. "Ela é linda demais! Talvez…" E eu vou dominar você do jeito que você merece... ...... O que acontecerá a seguir? O número de capítulos exibidos aqui é limitado. Por favor, clique no botão abaixo para baixar nosso aplicativo e ler mais capítulos. (Ao abrir o aplicativo, você irá automaticamente para este livro.) &5&		Lera reading		3170	https://www.facebook.com/61550764321146/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656623	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 10:18 AM	1735691947	1749827905		2174																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oy1vAKbjbb4Q7kNvgEKUn0w&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYB7KkKVjI93MwbKMq9yf4NK03YM12NW2VdZzoQKW8o3qw&oe=677A7472	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656599	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 10:59 AM	1735691947	1749830356		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656620	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 12:53 PM	1735691947	1749837187		2174																										shgjfh.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oy1vAKbjbb4Q7kNvgEKUn0w&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYB7KkKVjI93MwbKMq9yf4NK03YM12NW2VdZzoQKW8o3qw&oe=677A7472	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656927	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/4/25, 1:59 AM	1735691955	1749020371		2174																											Send message			IMAGE						1.4319926237603E+14	Volkswagen of Garden Grove	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472259960_1241289686942286_1665200738883536345_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Pxkmzp387NwQ7kNvgGHaKW3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYAygD_oaX0WR9NN-ezMYRRIuSuRJ7emewcvg10e2vhpxA&oe=677A4DF1	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		VWofGG's New Years Sales Event ! 🥂🎉🥂🎉 $0 Due at signing, $0 down Payment , $0 Security Deposit, and $0 First Month's Payment on select VW's in stock * Only at #VWofGG Sign Then Drive 👉https://bit.ly/3vCt9oZ #VWofGGSignThenDrive #2024VWJetta #VWAtlasSE #2024VWAtlasCrossSports #2024Tiguan		Volkswagen of Garden Grove		886	https://www.facebook.com/VWofGG/	0		MESSAGE_PAGE								View Edit Delete
2656935	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691955	1748420575		2174																											Contact us			IMAGE	3 Beds 2 Baths - House		https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/955542892745021/			1.0929775061416E+14	Eric Lubeshkoff		REGULAR_PAGE	1					0		3 Beds 2 Baths - House - $3,500.00 ✨ RIVERLAND TERRACE GEM FOR RENT! ✨ -Available starting Jan 15 Be the first to enjoy this freshly renovated 1940s bungalow in the highly sought-after Riverland Terrace neighborhood on James Island! This charming home seamlessly blends vintage character with modern upgrades. Featuring: • 🌟 Brand-New Kitchen & Appliances • 🛁 Two Fully Renovated Bathrooms • 🌞 Abundant Natural Light & Gorgeous Hardwood Floors The upstairs retreat boasts: • 🛏️ A spacious bedroom with a walk-in closet • 🚿 A luxurious 2-person shower • 🖥️ Bonus office space—perfect for remote work • 📦 Tons of built-in storage (a rare find for a home of this era!) Why Riverland Terrace? This neighborhood is a true treasure, offering: • 🌳 Beautiful live oak-lined streets • 🌱 A community garden & playground • 🚤 A convenient boat landing • 🛍️ Walkable dining, local shops, and the farmers market Location, Location, Location! • 🏙️ 6 miles to Downtown Charleston • 🏖️ 9 miles to Folly Beach • 🍴 Steps from great restaurants and entertainment This home isn’t just a place to live—it’s a lifestyle waiting to be embraced. Don’t miss out! Contact us today to schedule a tour. Please reach out to me with any inquires or if you would like to come check out the house. Facebook Marketplace		Eric Lubeshkoff		0	https://www.facebook.com/Eric-Lubeshkoff-109297750614164/	0		CONTACT_US								View Edit Delete
2656628	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 7:56 PM	1735691947	1749517009		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn more			VIDEO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends...	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468932756_3806434539670266_6099922544250812942_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ZkNngk6PGAIQ7kNvgGRBfL1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCBihhYYPvQAaiJJQNwIDKyNDHAUWV_jh0zoYKYDZGC8g&oe=677A6287	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		“Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am…I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face...		New world publications		3781	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656629	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/11/25, 6:01 PM	1735691947	1749682895		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			IMAGE	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468550314_583797884065189_3362670537608425079_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=GU4CACN5-qgQ7kNvgHf91W1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYAOFpgY5bpIdcAyjKCV98J30suwCkrr_ckeYu-xOwOCjQ&oe=677A7801	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656858	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/7/25, 1:30 AM	1735691952	1749277827		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214047051730250			4.3404558980307E+14	Hello reading-K	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469418118_8986022171449554_1720507915514568932_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wTbOilbNLQsQ7kNvgFnH2Pi&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYBEQbVZ0vDdTHMIb4cJ8BXkWfd5-asWY6Q6F79W79fOSQ&oe=677A70CD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-K		48	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656899	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/1/25, 2:35 AM	1735691953	1748763355		2174																														TEXT						1.0571414770591E+14	Green Mountain Food & Wholesale	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471991405_1023258929840196_4295466600563221319_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CUbFows-KnIQ7kNvgGrYmRE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYBbVvdEivdpRq4gx2-Uw_yKDKjW7BL9lzXO5gam26nlHQ&oe=677A44F8	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		We are open on January 1st 2025 from 9am to 2pm Happy new year all Be safe have fun		Green Mountain Food & Wholesale		2565	https://www.facebook.com/100028486465072/	0										View Edit Delete
2656917	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691954	1748420576		2174																										metarlight.com	Shop Now			CAROUSEL	Great gift for a pilot!		https://www.metarlight.com/product-page/15in-custom-sectional-chart-clock			3.1670065153095E+14	MetarLight	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471915791_1114133537165592_1606478616393046977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cwX6Mamjve8Q7kNvgE210m0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYCqUIKRWtKYM1Pnq_F4KtCG7t-8ZANpSViEAqE6ZuVpYA&oe=677A521E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0				MetarLight		148	https://www.facebook.com/metarlight/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656925	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691955	1748420576		2174																										superthrift.com	No Button			CAROUSEL			http://www.superthrift.com/			4.0002957685789E+14	GoodLife SuperThrift	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471715446_1808457123257386_7687321858465880644_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=n2J2MAphHt0Q7kNvgFQkzsQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYDj6_Cpoait1WQwr0NJveBJyau3Fs0mumpNng7vMbHbOg&oe=677A4C41	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0				GoodLife SuperThrift		6482	https://www.facebook.com/GoodLifeSuperThriftLakeWorth/	0		NO_BUTTON								View Edit Delete
2656933	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/9/25, 11:57 AM	1735691955	1749488239		2174																											Send message			VIDEO						1.0277549659279E+14	Liberty Bible Fellowship Church	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471918561_28150190501294109_8061873882152146885_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=41V7wO_HOvIQ7kNvgFOzZ3D&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYAohZelQBOaIxUCv1RCH5R2X3ihXvMVXYJziLSdVwp4Bg&oe=677A4938	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Join us at our New Years Eve Service December 31,2024. Gospel artist Sherwin Gardner will be with us along with our own Emrand Henry. Join us 9:00 pm.		Liberty Bible Fellowship Church		9536	https://www.facebook.com/LBFCNY/	0		MESSAGE_PAGE								View Edit Delete
2656930	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691955	1748420576		2174																										ticketon.com	Shop Now			DCO	COMPRA TUS BOLETOS	{{product.description}}	https://ticketon.com/events/rogelio-ramos-en-tx-mission-tx-2025-01-09-uw50dkswxfk0?code=A6otNx			333988739516	Rogelio Ramos Show	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472016175_9033989390014419_8984823153620843106_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yjj2G4pwZlEQ7kNvgEYJ4UQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYAwGa0QwAtaqWVkpbh5OmlvbHapAznKBaTv67zchDWLuQ&oe=677A70DD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		📣MISSION, TEXAS📣 PORQUE USTEDES LO PIDIERON: Regreso el JUE/9 DE ENERO 🙌 en el LADA 52 con mi show ''Prohibido No Reír'' 🙅🤣👌 Vayan a divertirse un rato, se van a reir de principio a fin! 🎟️Boletos ya a la venta por TICKETON!		Rogelio Ramos Show		1750079	https://www.facebook.com/RogelioRamosShow/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656947	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691956	1748420576		2174																											Send message			IMAGE						1.0313533588379E+14	Bag A Bargain Thrift Store	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471972191_1831452597680653_8062847343455260127_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pm1jcEpgckEQ7kNvgGTeeRZ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYDDow0Y4zlIqWl8KabCiZB_2eU9KAT0RgUyzYmi2bapOQ&oe=677A5E82	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Happy New Years Eve🥂 Friends🥂 We are OPEN NEW YEARS DAY 💥💥💥 9:00-6:00 Come in and snag some NY Deals 😁 📍18062 Business 13 Branson West Next to Pizza By the Chef		Bag A Bargain Thrift Store		755	https://www.facebook.com/bagabargainthrift/	0		MESSAGE_PAGE								View Edit Delete
2656892	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/1/25, 2:35 AM	1735691953	1748763324		2174																										9d.hair	Shop now			VIDEO	😎😎		http://9d.hair/9/?b1853jym			1.2052434099074E+14	أخبار الرياضة		PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		😎𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝑫𝒓.𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒂, 𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝑩𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝑼𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚, 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒔 𝒆𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒖𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒉. ✨ 𝑯𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑𝒔: ✅ 𝑺𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒆 ✅ 𝑰𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕		أخبار الرياضة		0	https://www.facebook.com/100090199939035/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656893	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/1/25, 2:35 AM	1735691953	1748763357		2174																										9d.hair	Shop now			VIDEO	😎😎		http://9d.hair/9/?b1853jym			1.8762429865673E+14	Waitalo General Solutions	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472242780_1113175317123720_6799273348873899298_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=RvnlekB2lB4Q7kNvgEYw8et&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYDgl7LMGCs0Wgl2cZ7QKYMrVwW45Ces2AtH--64paIfaA&oe=677A48F6	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		😎𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝑫𝒓.𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒂, 𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝑩𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝑼𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚, 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒔 𝒆𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒖𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒉. ✨ 𝑯𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑𝒔: ✅ 𝑺𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒆 ✅ 𝑰𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕		Waitalo General Solutions		109	https://www.facebook.com/100054347826428/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656391	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 7:19 PM	1735691943	1749860372		2174																										cororver.com	Shop now			IMAGE	Custom Gangster Teddy Bear Crown Metal Wall Art LED Light	Custom Gangster Teddy Bear Crown Metal Wall Art LED Light	https://www.cororver.com/SK323			1.0835617857859E+14	cororver.com	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/406765145_846965440770851_7987024006552751142_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=TagycbA-Cb4Q7kNvgFBFgT1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYAN7akSQJkv3o_VzpRTfueFpP2CkGBeSE_hUxNZb56nzA&oe=677A69DC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💘 Personalized Gangster Teddy Bear Crown Metal Wall Art LED Light 😍 buy now 🎁 https://www.cororver.com/SK323 💘😍 The perfect gift for your friends or family		cororver.com		663	https://www.facebook.com/cororver/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656641	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 7:49 PM	1735691948	1749862169		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656732	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 7:27 PM	1735691949	1749860879		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656478	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 6:33 PM	1735691944	1749857584		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471371887_1331252234896953_1187499809633777846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=_es5VFD1vk4Q7kNvgHSXqAi&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYB1TbLi7qTgOZF-zDU_GArMAq6Rttorqc7L3OHIidyz8g&oe=677A565B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656467	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 7:01 PM	1735691944	1749859314		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656574	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 8:10 PM	1735691947	1749863411		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656529	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 8:29 PM	1735691946	1749864594		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656416	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 9:25 PM	1735691943	1749867949		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656568	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 12:20 AM	1735691946	1749878423		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656643	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 12:20 AM	1735691948	1749878434		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656576	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 10:21 PM	1735691947	1749871287		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYA269s4quSOiqVLx8eBkMe3YBoyyG45zlXIxHq2rCC0SQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656500	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/4/25, 8:35 AM	1735691945	1749044107		2174																										mmplm.com	Learn more			VIDEO	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://mmplm.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16608&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471219519_2045991632505805_6076997115906474282_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=z_vbuF1kpo8Q7kNvgFKqAoA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYACOxF13u-YnueuR3kMgVDNc1Xn3yThx68KssdoNJnwfg&oe=677A66E4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」 優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。 「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」 「半年から1年ぐらい。」 優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」 高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。 悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」 「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。 父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。 かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。 優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。 後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。 だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」 優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」 その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。 優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」 峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」 「家で待ってるから。」 峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。 一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？ 彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。 「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。 しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。 あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！ 玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。 「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」 「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」 その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。 「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」 彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。 「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。 かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」 峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」 彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」 優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」 また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」 翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」 「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」 病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。 今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。 看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。 でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。 仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。 冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」 「急なことがあって――」 「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」 そんな！ 「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」 「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。 その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？ 「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」 「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」 それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。 優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。 なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。 もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？ 今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。 手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」 「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」 優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。 介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。 焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」 「事務室だ。」 「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」 峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」 「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」 「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。 再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。 優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。 今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。 彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。 「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」 「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。 「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」 優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」 「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。 「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」 顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656608	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691947	1748420576		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xUDnAs_Pq4oQ7kNvgENh-Ku&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYCQhABr3QXvbTqpp7QOCtKMtIA9Kbv68PPstWyanfsO4w&oe=677A5891	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656711	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 10:37 PM	1735691949	1749872250		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	Read more FREE chapters👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XhQmwr05aGcQ7kNvgHQbvMH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDXlm9YcMpbe8R-tXH93kTSsbfiJt11V_RhjVlufTPybw&oe=677A7488	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656579	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 1:06 AM	1735691947	1749881172		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYA269s4quSOiqVLx8eBkMe3YBoyyG45zlXIxHq2rCC0SQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656833	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 10:53 PM	1735691951	1749873192		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	계속 읽기👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65152436-fb_contact-kra210_2-1203-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1085029615921206&jump=1&rawadid=120213598942560274			4.6757881642794E+14	Happy reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468887594_4171407659745833_6614691967249225686_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wVVZGWoM5k4Q7kNvgFjdVxK&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7omWGisR__Lj2tyCVdMxdL&oh=00_AYC2Ojbxf5hswiEk1pzl5KF6Phf0LdQiwYnMQTGdUXfBNQ&oe=677A6944	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		남편의 배신을 받게 되었다. 모든 사람들이 그녀의 불행을 비웃었지만 누가 알았으랴. 고졸도 하지 못한 그녀의 정체는 최고의 해커이자 일류 레이서에 세계적으로 유명한 의학교수였으며 유명한 보석 디자이너인 것이다. ===== "얼른 이혼 서류에 서명하고 고씨 가문에서 나가! 시우는 회사 일 때문에 바빠. 너한테 낭비할 시간이 없는 애라고!" 고영서가 짜증을 냈다. 예단의 발치에 서류 하나가 툭 떨어졌다. 서류 아래쪽의 서명이 한눈에 들어왔다. 고시우. "시우 씨는 어디 있죠? 왜 시우 씨가 직접 와서 말하지는 않는 거예요?" 예단이 물었다. 고영서는 마치 예단이 터무니없는 질문을 한다는 듯이 코웃음을 쳤다. "내 동생이 너 같은 애한테 신경 쓸 시간이 있는 줄 알아?" 고영서는 예단을 머리부터 발끝까지 훑어봤다. 예단의 아름다운 외모는 부정할 수 없었다. 고영서조차도 예단을 처음에 보고 감탄할 정도였으니 말이다. 하지만 예단의 아름다운 외모는 언제나 가려져 있었다. 그녀의 숱 많은 앞머리와 큰 검은 뿔테 안경에 그녀의 조그마한 얼굴이 거의 가려졌고, 늘 헐렁한 운동복을 입고 있어서 균형 잡힌 몸매를 완전히 감춰 버렸다. 고영서는 예단을 집안일 밖에 할 줄 모르는 주부일 뿐이라고 생각했다. 예단은 입술을 깨물더니 갑자기 웃음을 터드렸다. "일 하느라 바쁜 거예요? 아니면 하지우 씨와 시간 보내느라 바쁜 거예요?" 예단이 씁쓸하게 말했다. 고시우가 10년 동안 사랑한 여자 하지우! 3년간의 위태로운 결혼 생활 동안 먹구름마냥 그림자를 드리우고 있었다. 그 당시, 하지우가 결혼을 앞두고 사라져버린 탓에, 고씨 가문은 A시의 웃음거리가 될 뻔했다. 예단은 고시우의 할아버지 고필두와 했던 약속을 지키고, 어린 시절 고시우에게 진 빚을 갚기 위해 망설임 없이 고시우와 결혼했다. 예단은 은혜를 갚기 위해 자신의 정체를 숨기고 자신의 모든 것을 남편과 고씨 집안에 헌신했다. 고씨 가문에 시집온 이후, 예단은 시부모님을 잘 모셨고, 고영서를 열심히 도왔다. 돈을 흥정망정 쓰는 고영서는 돈이 부족할 때마다 예단에게 도움을 요청하곤 했다. 고영서가 남편에게 폭행 당할 때마다 고씨 가문 사람들은 자신들에게 부정적인 영향을 미칠까 봐 늘 모르는 척했다. 예단이 도와주지 않았다면 고영서는 어떤 험한 일을 당했을지 몰랐고, 순조롭게 이혼할 수도 없었을 것이다. '이제 와서 날 무시하고 잘난 척을 해!' 이혼 합의서의 조건을 살펴보던 예단은 갑자기 서류를 닫고 테이블 위에 내려놓았다. "이혼은 동의하겠지만, 시우 씨 재산의 절반은 나에게 줘야 해요." 놀라 눈을 크게 뜬 고영서는 테이블을 내리치며 벌떡 일어섰다. "꿈 깨! 고씨 가문에 시집 오면 네 팔자가 필 거라고 생각했나 보지? 넌 한 푼도 못 받고 나가게 될 거야!" 예단은 차분하게 앞치마를 벗고 헐렁한 홈웨어의 지퍼를 내렸다. 그러자 몸매가 돋보이는 매끈한 상의와 청바지가 드러났다. 예단은 안경을 벗고 미소를 지으며 고영서를 바라봤다. "결정은 형님이 내리는 게 아니죠. 시우 씨와 직접 얘기해 볼게요." 고영서는 촌스럽기만 하던 예단이 눈깜짝할 사이에 분위기가 확 다른 사람으로 변신하자 깜짝 놀라 잠시 말문이 막혔다. 고영서가 정신을 차렸을 때, 예단은 이미 입구로 걸어가고 있었다. "어딜 가? 당장 이리 와서 서류에 서명하지 못해!" 고영서가 소리쳤다. 분노에 사로잡힌 고영서는 서류를 움켜쥐고 멀어져가는 예단에게 던졌다. 종이가 공중에 펄럭이며 예단을 아슬아슬하게 지나쳤다. 그리고 밖으로 나가자마자 재빨리 전화를 걸었다. "고시우가 어디 있는지 알려줘." 오후 4시가 되자 코니세그 한 대가 능숙하게 교통체증을 헤치고 나가며 고속도로를 질주했다. "찾았어. 성심 대극장에 있네. GPS 설정해 놨어." 블루투스 스피커에서 약간 불안한 듯한 목소리가 흘러 나왔다. "단아, 성급하게 행동하지 마. 고시우는 그럴 가치가 없는 사람이야..." 짜증나기도 하고 우습기도 한 예단은 눈썹을 찌푸리며 말했다. "걱정 마. 내가 왜 그러겠어." "그야..." 전화 반대편에서 서희연이 반박했다. "너는 평소에는 침착한 애지만, 열 살 때 너를 구해준 사람이 고시우라는 걸 알게 된 이후로 완전히 달라졌잖아. 네 가치를 알아보지 못하는 사람 때문에 왜 자신을 희생하려는 거야? 그 사람을 위해 진짜 신분과 능력까지 숨기고... 대체 왜 그러는 건데?" "그만해!" 예단이 소리쳤다. "그 사람 때문에 그러는 거 아니야. 너, 우리 집안 상황이 지금 얼마나 복잡한지 알잖아." 서희연이 단지 그녀가 걱정돼서 하는 말이라는 걸 깨닫고 예단은 목소리를 낮췄다. "걱정 마. 그냥 이혼하려고 그러는 거니까." "뭐? 맙소사..." 서희연이 헉 소리를 냈다. 서희연이 큰 소리를 내기 전에 예단은 재빨리 전화를 끊었다. 그녀는 엑셀을 세게 밟으며 미소를 지었다. 예단은 앞을 가로막고 있던 부가티를 능숙하게 피한 다음 빠른 속도로 달려나가기 시작했다. 한편, 검은색 부가티의 뒷좌석에 앉은 남자가 차가운 목소리로 말했다. "코니세그를 따라가. 박천주에게 다음 교차로에서 저 차를 막으라고 알려." 비서는 차 속도를 높이며 떨리는 목소리로 물었다. "대표님, 저 차가 무슨 문제라도 있습니까?" 남자는 등을 기대고 입술을 살짝 벌리더니 중얼거렸다. "오랜만이야, 트라이언트." 제2화 그녀는 트라이언트 트라이언트? 운전석에 앉아 있던 온진형은 놀라 움찔했다. 수년간 언더그라운드 레이싱 랭킹 순위를 장악하며 챔피언으로 활약했던 전설적인 그 트라이언트가 저 사람이라고? 트라이언트는 3년 전에 흔적도 없이 사라지지 않았었나? 트라이언트가 왜 지금 갑자기 A시에 나타난 걸까? 게다가 세련된 코니세그의 운전자는 여성인 것 같았다. 그러나 뒷좌석에 앉은 남자가 확신을 담아 말하자 온진형은 아무 말도 하지 않았다. 그는 앞서 가는 차에 온전히 집중하며 절대 놓치지 않을 거라 결심했다. 예단은 부가티를 추월하면서 왼쪽 사이드 미러를 흘깃 보며 눈살을 찌푸렸다. 그녀는 블루투스 이어폰을 두드리며 차분하면서도 단호한 목소리로 말했다. "희연아, 위성에 접속해. 8시 방향에 부가티가 따라오고 있어. 차주를 확인해줘." 서희연은 당황했지만 재빨리 그녀의 말을 따랐다. 차주를 알아낸 그녀는 한숨을 쉬며 이어폰에 대고 말했다. "배씨 가문의 차야. 이 차 주인은... 배도훤이야!" 예단의 눈에는 놀란 기색이 역력했다. "말도 안 돼. 어떻게 아는 사이야?" 서희연이 당황한 듯 말했다. "지난달 해외 금융 중심지 울 스트리트에서 돌아왔다는 소식은 들었어. 이미 A시를 뒤집어 놓았고 오래된 가문들 사이의 권력 구도까지 바꿔놓았대." 서희연이 망설이다가 의심스러운 듯이 물었다. "너, 배씨 그룹 사람이랑 뭐... 있었어?" "야!" 예단이 블루투스 이어폰을 두드리며 체념한 듯 말했다. "아무리 나라도 그 정도로 욕심이 많지는 않아. 게다가 지난 3년 동안 나는 A시에 있었다고. 해외로 여행을 갈 때마다 흔적이 남기지 않으려고, 신분 위조까지 하면서 다녔어. 얼마나 번거로운데. 내가 배씨 그룹 사람들을 건드릴 시간이나 있었을 것 같아?" 서희연은 자신의 실수를 깨닫고 서둘러 말했다. "맞아, 이게 다 고시우 때문이야. 그 사람만 아니었어도 너는..." "됐어. 부가티의 스마트 시스템을 원격으로 해킹할 수 있을까? 지금 당장 해결하지 않으면 배도훤은 내가 현장에서 고시우를 잡는 걸 보게 될 거야." 예단은 다시 백미러를 힐끗 쳐다봤다. 부가티가 점점 더 거리를 좁히며 다가오고 있었다. "안 돼!" 서희연이 긴박한 목소리로 말했다. "수동 자동 모드 둘 다 달려있는 차야. 단순히 시스템을 중단하는 것만으로는 효과가 없다고!" 예단은 이마를 더욱 세게 찌푸리며 입을 열려는 순간 서희연이 갑자기 다급한 목소리로 말했다. "단아, 속도 늦춰! 2킬로미터 앞 교차로에서 바리케이드가 쳐져 있어!" 먼지와 잔해로 뒤섞인 안개가 걷히고 앞길이 드러나자, 예단은 짜증을 내며 말했다. "정말 멋진 광경이네." 빠른 속도로 달리던 코니세그는 곧 앞에서 뒤까지 뻗은 바리케이드에 갇혀 멈출 수밖에 없었다. 예단은 아스팔트 도로 위에서 완전히 궁지에 몰리고 말았다. 그녀의 앞에는 스포츠카 6대가, 그녀 뒤에는 부가티가 위풍당당하게 가로막고 서 있었다. 그녀는 좌석에 기대앉아 흥미롭다는 듯이 눈썹을 치켜올렸다. 선두에 있는 페라리의 운전자가 무리의 우두머리가 분명했다. 그는 예단에게 차에서 내려 대화를 나누자고 손짓했다. 그럼에도 불구하고 예단의 시선은 백미러에 비친 부가티에 고정되어 있었다. 거리가 멀어서 운전자의 얼굴이 겨우 보였다. 뒷좌석에 앉은 배도훤의 모습은 약간 가려져 있었지만, 살짝 보이는 검은 정장은 여전히 위압적인 아우라를 내뿜고 있었다. 온진형은 코니세그가 한참 동안 움직이지 않는 것을 보고 뒷좌석을 힐끗 보며 말했다. "대표님, 박천주를 시켜서 억지로 끌어내리라고 할까요?" 배도훤은 다리를 꼬고 앉아 중지 손가락에 끼워진 투르말린 반지를 무심하게 돌리며 말했다. "기다려." 배도훤은 두꺼운 차창 너머로 앞차에 탄 예단과 시선을 마주치는 듯했다. 그는 작게 웃음을 터뜨렸다. "이렇게 쉽게 잡히면 트라이언트가 아니지." 예단의 인내심이 한계에 다다랐다. 그녀는 앞쪽의 교통 상황을 살펴보았다. 상대 무리는 주저하는 듯해 보였다. 그녀를 차에서 끌어내리려고 하는 대신 서로 신호만 주고받을 뿐이었다. "희연아, 성심 대극장으로 가는 다른 길이 있어? 찾아줘." 예단이 물었다. 서희연이 손가락으로 화면 위에서 바쁘게 움직이더 걱정 어린 목소리로 말했다. "하나 있긴 한데, 이 교차로를 지나야 해. 대치 상황에서는 불가능한 거나 다름 없어!" '띵, 경로가 변경되었습니다. 소요 시간 5분 단축됩니다...' 예단은 내비게이션 시스템을 작동시킨 후, 몸을 똑바로 세우고 핸드브레이크를 조정하며 엑셀을 밟았다. 엔진의 우렁찬 소음에 그 무리의 표정이 바뀌었다. 우두머리는 뒤에 있는 부가티로부터 신호를 받은 듯 통신 시도를 중단하고 부하들을 예단 쪽으로 보냈다. 몸싸움까지 각오한 듯 비장해 보였다. 예단의 얼굴에 미소가 번졌다. 남자들이 팔 한 뼘 거리까지 다가온 순간, 그녀는 핸들을 휙 돌리며 엑셀을 밟았다. 그녀는 구경꾼들의 놀란 시선을 받으며 차량 사이로 급격하게 달려나갔다. "내가 지나갈 수 없는 길은 없지!" 전화 반대편에서 서희연이 기뻐하며 소리쳤지만, 그녀의 흥분은 곧 걱정으로 바뀌었다. "배도훤의 바리케이드를 뚫었으니, 이제 저쪽과는 원수가 된 건가?" 예단이 비웃었다. "저쪽에서 먼저 시비 걸었잖아. 그리고 적 하나 더 생긴다고 달라질 게 뭐야?" 그녀가 떠난 뒤에도 자동차 바퀴가 급격하게 턴을 하는 날카로운 소리가 한참 동안 공중에 맴돌았다. 사무실로 돌아온 박천주는 겁에 질리 얼굴로 배도훤을 마주했다. "죄송합니다, 대표님. 트라이언트를 막는 데 실패했습니다. 어떤 벌이든 달게 받겠습니다." 배도훤은 바닥부터 천장까지 닿는 커다란 창문 옆에 서서 A시를 내려다봤다. 그의 시선은 한 건물에 고정되어 있었다. "그 코니세그, 고씨 가문과 관련이 있나?" 온진형은 재빨리 태블릿을 조작하며 대답했다. "기록에 따르면 이 차는 3년 전에 구입한 것으로, 주로 고시우 씨와 그의 아버지가 사용했습니다." 온진형은 잠시 멈칫하더니 계속해서 말했다. "오늘 그 차를 몬 건 고씨우 씨의 아내, 예단이라는 사람인데... 그분이 트라이언트일 리는 없어요." 박천주가 잽싸게 온진형의 말을 가로막았다. "말도 안 돼요! 온 비서님도 그 여자가 바리케이드를 어떻게 부수는지 보셨잖아요. 그 여자가 트라이언트가 아니라면, 어떻게 그런 걸 해낼 수 있겠습니까? 트라이언트가 틀림없어요!" 계속해서 데이터를 살피던 온진형의 표정이 굳어졌다. "기록에 따르면, 예단 씨는 영화 제작사 사장의 딸로, 평범한 집안 출신입니다. 어머니는 일찍 돌아가셨고, 아버지의 재혼 후 이복 오빠와 이복 언니가 생기는 바람에 고등학교를 그만두고 다른 도시로 이사해야 했습니다. 그런 사람이 어떻게 노린산 경주에서 우승까지 거머쥔 레이서가 될 수 있었을까요?" 말문이 막힌 박천주는 본능적으로 배도훤에게로 시선을 돌렸다. 키가 훤칠한 배도훤은 존재 자체만으로도 압도적인 존재감을 드러내고 있었다. 배도훤은 무심히 파텍 필립 시계를 만지작거리며 뜬금없이 웃음을 터뜨렸다. 그의 갑작스런 웃음에 곁에 있던 두 사람은 몸이 오싹해났다. "다음 주의 자선 파티에 고씨 가문을 초대해." 코니세그는 성심 대극장 문 밖에서 끼익 소리를 내며 멈췄다. 세련되고 섹시한 옷을 입고 코니세그에서 내려 먼지가 자욱한 길을 걸어오는 예단의 모습은 더 이상 고시우가 알고 있던 보수적인 주부가 아니었다. 고시우가 짜증을 내며 어두워진 표정으로 소리쳤다. "예단..." 예단은 장난기 가득하면서도 위협적인 미소를 짓더니 자동차 열쇠를 가볍게 흔들며 고시우를 향해 다가갔다. "위대한 고 대표님은 내연녀 콘서트 보러 갈 시간은 있으면서 이혼할 시간은 없으신가 봐요. 그래서 내가 직접 이혼 서류를 들고 왔죠." 변함없이 하지우를 감싸고 도는 고시우의 모습에 예단은 조금 씁쓸해졌다. 예단이 선언했다. "고시우, 그렇게 사랑하는 사람 곁에 있고 싶으면, 이혼 서류에 서명하고 재산을 똑같이 나누도록 하자. 하지만 단 한 푼이라도 적게 주면 이혼에 동의하지 않을 거야. 그렇게 되면 당신과 당신의 연인은 평생을 불륜이라는 말을 들으며 살 수 밖에 없게 되겠지." 제3화 내 비참한 결혼 생활과 함께 침몰했어 고시우는 평소에 순종적이고 다루기 쉬운 아내가 이렇게 변할 줄은 전혀 예상하지 못했다. "꿈 깨!" 고시우가 짜증을 내며 어두워진 표정으로 소리쳤다. "그만해, 예단. 내 관심을 끌기 위해서 이런 짓을 하는 거라면 이제 그만 둬." 그가 경고하는 듯한 눈빛으로 말했다. "그럴수록 더 정이 떨어질 뿐이라고." 예단은 처음으로 고시우가 자신에 대해 잘 아는 듯이 제멋대로 말하자 흥미를 느꼈다. "돈 얘기하는데 감정 얘기는 왜 꺼내? 역겹지도 않아?" 예단은 두 사람을 향해 싱긋 웃으며 고시우를 향해 날카롭게 말했다. "하지우 씨가 그렇게 좋았으면 따라서 해외로 가버리지 그랬어? 왜 나와 결혼한 거야? 그 정도로 사랑이 깊지는 않았나 보지?" 그녀의 말에 정곡을 찔린 고시우가 재빨리 대답했다. "할아버지가 고씨 그룹을 이용해 나를 협박했던 거 알잖아. 그렇지 않고서야 내가 지우가 떠나는 걸 가만히 앉아서 지켜봤을 리가..." "그러니까, 돈 때문이라는 거잖아?" 예단이 날카롭게 반박했다. "그럼 그 진정한 사랑이라는 것도 고씨 가문의 재산 상속 앞에서는 아무것도 아닌 거네?" 예단이 조롱하듯이 웃었다. "고시우 씨, 사랑 밖에 모르는 치정남인 척 좀 그만해!" 모두의 앞에서 자신의 속셈이 밝혀지자, 고시우의 얼굴이 벌겋게 달아올랐다. 그때 하지우가 나서 사려 깊은 목소리로 재빨리 그를 변호하기 시작했다. "예단 씨, 시우 씨와 내 사이를 그렇게 틀어놔야겠어요? 시우 씨도 시우 씨 나름대로의 이유가 있었을 거예요." 그러면서 하지우는 의미심장하면서도 도발적인 눈빛으로 예단을 마주봤다. "예단 씨, 재산 분할에서 더 많은 이득을 보기 위해 나와 시우 씨의 관계를 이간질하려는 거 다 알아요. 애초에 예단 씨는 돈을 목적으로 결혼한 거잖아요?" 그녀의 말에 예단에 대한 고시우의 혐오감은 더욱 커졌다. "그럴 줄 알았어! 당신은 언제나 욕심이 많았지. 이미 2억 송금했고, 그 아우디도 곧 당신 명의가 될 거야. 고씨 가문에게 그런 것쯤은 쉽게 해낼 수 있는 일이야. 당신네 가족처럼 하찮은 집안이 아니니까..." "그 정도로는 안 되지!" 예단은 고시우를 바라보며 날카롭게 반박했다. "당신은 억만장자야. 우리의 공동 재산과 차, 부동산을 모두 고려하면 최소한 천 억은 줘야지. 지금 당신 누나가 준 중고 아우디로 퉁 치려고 하는 거야?" 예단의 날카로운 시선이 하지우에게로 향하자, 그녀는 본능적으로 몸을 움츠렸다. "내가 잘못 본 게 아니라면, 당신 애인이 하고 있는 목걸이 가격이 최소 2억이 되지 않나?" 고시우는 하지우의 앞을 막아서며 말했다. "예단, 부끄러운 줄도 몰라? 지우의 목걸이는 내가 선물한 거야. 돈밖에 모르는 당신과는 달리 순수하고 착한 여자라고!" 예단은 고개를 끄덕이며 반박했다. "그러니까, 돈 주기 싫다 이거지, 지금?" 그 말과 함께 그녀는 돌아서서 코니세그에 다시 올라탔다. 모두가 그녀의 행동에 의아해하며 지켜보고 있을 때, 스포츠카 엔진의 굉음이 공기를 가르며 울려퍼졌다. 매끈한 검은색 슈퍼카가 날쌘 화살처럼 앞으로 달려나가며, 텅 빈 계단을 따라 내려가 무대로 곧장 돌진했다. "쾅!" 방심하고 있던 고시우와 하지우는 흩날리는 나무 파편을 덮어 쓰고 말았다. 하지우는 날카로운 비명을 질렀고, 고시우는 분노가 치밀어 올라 소리쳤다. "예단, 한 번만 더 이러면 가만히 두지 않을..." 하지만 예단은 그의 충고를 완전히 무시했다. 그녀는 차를 후진하며 무대와의 안전 거리를 두고 멈춰 세웠다. "고시우 씨, 다시 한 번 물을게. 재산 분할 할 거야, 말 거야?" 그녀가 긴장이 팽팽한 분위기를 뚫고 소리쳤다. 엔진의 굉음에 고시우의 얼굴이 새하얗게 질렸다. 위협적인 차와 어마어마한 예단의 존재감에 짓눌린 그는 미처 탈출할 생각조차 못하고 제자리에 얼어붙었다. 그는 경비를 부르려고 했지만, 경비원과 사람들은 모두 겁에 질려 도망가고 없었다. 이 대치 상황에서는 세 사람만이 남아 있었다. 예단, 완전히 미쳐버렸네! 예단은 겁에 질린 고시우와 하지우의 얼굴을 보고 만족스러운 미소를 지었다. 무서운 엔진 소리가 더욱 커지더니 고시우의 공포에 질린 시선 아래서 자동차는 다시 한 번 무대를 향해 돌진했다! "알았어! 당신 말대로 재산 분할 하면 되잖아!" 차는 무대에서 몇 센티미터 떨어진 곳에서 겨우 멈췄다. 앞 범퍼가 아슬아슬하게 무대를 스칠 뻔했다. 예단은 이제 너덜너덜해진 차 문을 발로 박차고 침착하게 차에서 내려 팔짱을 낀 채 떨고 있는 두 사람을 마주보았다. 고시우는 심호흡을 하며 평정심을 되찾으려고 애썼다. "하지만 다음 주까지 기다려야 해. 이번 주말은 할아버지 생신이야. 아직은 이혼 소식을 전할 수 없어." 고필두 할아버지는 언제나 예단에게 친절했고, 그녀 역시 그의 생일을 망칠 생각은 없었다. 예단은 어깨를 으쓱하며 말했다. "오늘 약속은 꼭 지켜. 이렇게 많은 눈이 우리를 주목하는 가운데 고씨 가문의 후계자가 감히 자기가 내뱉은 말을 번복하지는 않겠지?" 그녀의 말에 반박할 수 없었던 고시우는 좌절해서 이를 악물었다. 예단은 몇 걸음 앞으로 나아가, 하지우를 지나치고 고시우에게 시선을 고정하며 가볍게 혀를 찼다. "사실, 저 차는 처음에 무대에 부딪혔을 때 벌써 망가졌어. 그냥 당신을 놀라게 하려고 엔진을 켜놓았을 뿐이야. 어차피 부딪히지도 못했을 거야." 고시우는 충격에 눈이 휘둥그래졌다. 예단은 눈썹을 치켜 올리고 비꼬듯이 말했다. "당신 같은 사람에게 그렇게 좋은 차를 허비하다니." 말이 끝난 그녀는 눈길 한 번 주지 않고 밖으로 나갔다. 고시우는 정신을 못 차리고 그 자리에 잠시 멍하니 서 있었다. 순식간에 너무 많은 일이 벌어져 받아들이는 데 시간이 필요했다. 그는 예단이 떠나는 것을 보고서야 3년 동안 평범했던 아내가 자신도 모르고 있었던 숨겨진 매력이 있을 거라는 생각이 들었다. "다 나 때문이에요, 시우 씨! 나를 보호하려 하지만 않았어도 그런 터무니없는 요구를 절대 들어주지 않았을 텐데!" 하지우는 고시우의 옷깃을 붙잡고 떨리는 목소리로 말했다. 그녀가 눈물을 보이자 고시우는 다시 그녀에게로 시선을 고정했다. 고시우는 하지우를 끌어안고 부드럽게 위로하기 시작했다. "네 탓이 아니야. 다 욕심 많은 저 여자 탓이지. 내가 방심한 틈을 타 자기가 원하는 걸 요구하다니." 하지우는 눈물을 글썽이며 그를 올려다봤다. "이제 우리 어떡해요? 당신이 오랫동안 심혈을 기울여 고씨 그룹을 경영한 덕분에 지금의 재산을 소유할 수 있게 된 건데, 저 여자는 아무것도 안 했잖아요. 그런 여자가 당신 재산의 절반을 가져가다니요?" 하지우는 입술을 깨물었다. "나는 어떤 상황에도 당신을 지지할 거예요. 하지만 이런 부당한 일이 벌어지는 걸 가만 두고 볼 수는 없어요. 시우 씨 어머니와 누님이 이 얘기를 들으면 많이 화나실 텐데요." 고시우는 코웃음을 쳤다. "우선 알겠다고는 했지만, 순순히 따라 줄 수는 없지." 아수라장이 된 극장 밖에서 예단은 서희연에게 전화를 걸었다. "성심 대극장으로 데리러 올 수 있어?" 서희연이 의아해하며 물었다. "코니세그 끌고 갔잖아?" 자신의 손을 내려다본 예단은 조금 전에 충돌 때문에 생긴 상처를 발견했다. 상처는 얕았지만 넓게 퍼져 있었고, 이제는 피가 나기 시작했다. "내 비참한 결혼 생활과 함께 침몰했어." 제4화 배씨 가문의 연회 초대장 그 한마디 말에 담긴 뜻을 이해한 서희연은 순간 숨이 멎는 듯했다. 호기심이 생긴 그녀는 재빨리 차 키를 챙겨 예단을 데리러 나갔다. 서희연이 고속도로를 따라 질주하는 페라리 안에서 믿을 수 없다는 듯이 외쳤다. "그 끔찍한 커플을 그냥 들이받지 그랬어?" 예단은 침착하게 상처를 치료하면서 대답했다. "법은 어기지 않는 편이 좋으니까." 서희연은 말문이 막혔다. 그녀는 예단이 이 대화를 꺼린다는 것을 깨닫고 재빨리 주제를 바꿨다. "아, 그 자선 연회 말이야. 너 특별 게스트로 초대받았잖아. 이번에는 갈 거지?" 예단이 대답하기도 전에 서희연이 말했다. "어차피 이혼할 거잖아. 이제 그 멍청한 고시우한테 더 이상 숨길 필요 없지 않아?" 서희연이 입을 삐죽 내밀며 덧붙였다. "이번 연회 준비하느라 얼마나 고생을 했는데. 아빠한테 좋은 인상을 주고 싶단 말이야. 너는 내 가장 친한 친구잖아. 올 거지, 응?" "알았어." 예단이 체념한 듯한 미소를 지으며 말했다. "네가 원한다면야!" 서희연은 기뻐서 신나게 경적을 울려댔다. "좋아, 내일 여섯 시 정각이야! 초동석을 입구로 보낼게!" 그녀는 아침 일정을 완벽하게 소화했고, 행사 시작 30분 전에 여유롭게 연회장에 도착했다. 예단은 진짜 정체를 숨긴데다 이전에 참석 뜻을 제대로 밝히지 않은 탓에 공식 초대장을 받지 못했다. 그래서 그녀는 입구 근처에 있는 작은 파빌리온에 앉아 커피를 마시며 초동석이 도착하기를 기다리고 있었다. 그녀가 커피를 반쯤 마셨을 때 초동석이 문자를 보내왔다. "늦어서 죄송합니다, 천재 디자이너님! 10분 안에 도착해요!" 예단이 속으로 웃으며 답장을 보내려고 하던 그 때, 비꼬는 듯한 목소리가 들려왔다. "이게 누구야, 예단 씨잖아요? 여기서 당신을 만날 줄은 몰랐네요. 시우 씨에게 위자료를 달라고 구걸하면서 배씨 가문의 연회까지 발을 들이려고 하다니. 하지만 말이죠..." 그녀의 목소리가 점점 차가워졌다. "이 연회는 당신 같은 사람이 참석할 수 있는 자리가 아니에요. 주제를 알아야지." 제5화 기어이 손을 대게 만드는 거야 예단은 멈칫하더니 천천히 고개를 들었다. 하지우가 가식적으로 걱정해주는 척 그녀를 내려다보고 있었다. 예단은 붉은 입술을 말아 올리며 날카롭게 대답했다. "당신이 무슨 상관이죠? 내가 배씨 가문 연회에 가든 말든, 당신이 알 바 아니잖아요." 하지우는 예단의 직설적인 대답에 조금 놀란 듯 눈이 동그래졌다. 예단은 등나무 의자에 기대어 앉아 무심하게 핸드폰을 톡톡 두드렸다. 그녀는 매혹적인 눈으로 하지우를 놀리듯이 쳐다봤다. 하지우는 확실히 교활했다. 누구라도 발끈할 태도와 말투를 잘 쓰는 것 같았다. "예단?" 바로 그때, 고시우가 다가왔다. 그는 예단을 여기서 볼 줄은 상상조차 못했다. 고시우가 눈살을 찌푸렸고, 그의 잘생긴 얼굴이 즉시 어두워졌다. "나를 망신시키려고 여기까지 온 거야?" 고시우는 화를 내며 소리쳤다. "그냥 좀 꺼져!" 하지우는 마치 자신의 지위를 선언하기라도 하듯 일부러 고시우의 팔을 끌어안으며 도전적인 눈빛으로 예단을 바라봤다. 예단은 그런 무례한 행동을 참고 넘어갈 사람이 아니었다. 그녀는 손가락을 꽉 움켜쥐더니 고시우를 경멸스럽다는 듯이 바라보며 차가운 미소를 지었다. "다시 말해볼래? 지금 감히 누구 보고 꺼지라는 거야?" 예단은 검은색 실크 슬립 드레스를 입고 가느다란 다리를 우아하게 꼬고 앉아 있었다. 그녀의 흠잡을 데 없는 피부와 눈길을 끄는 이목구비는 엄청난 매력을 선사했다. 그녀의 목소리는 흔들림 없이 차분했지만, 온몸에서 차가운 분위기를 내뿜고 있었다. 압박감이 급습해왔다. 고시우는 갑작스럽게 변한 분위기에 당황한 채 잠시 얼어붙었다. 이 여자가 정말로 순종적이기만 하던 그의 아내라니! 짜증이 난 하지우는 눈살을 찌푸렸다. 마지막으로 예단을 만났을 때, 하지우는 그녀가 정신이 나간 줄 알았다. 하지우는 예단이 또 다시 난동을 부려 자신이 망신 당하게 될까 봐 걱정되어 목소리를 누그러뜨리고 순진한 척 연기했다. "예단 씨, 이만 가 보세요. 초대장은 하나 밖에 없고, 시우 씨는 나를 데리고 들어가기로 했어요. 예단 씨가 여기에서 버티고 있는다고 해서 들어갈 수 있는 연회가 아니에요. 게다가 예단 씨는 문제만 일으키잖아요. 왜 자꾸 일을 어렵게 만드는 거예요?" 예단은 하지우를 차가운 시선으로 쳐다봤다. 그녀는 이미 고시우의 진짜 모습을 훤히 잘 알고 있다. 이젠 고시우에게도, 이 결혼 생활도 철저히 희망을 잃었다. 이제 하지우의 태도나 말은 그녀에게 아무런 영향을 미치지 못했다. "당신이 무슨 상관이에요?" 예단은 하지우의 말에 전혀 동요하지 않고 차분하게 대답했다. 그녀는 무심코 잔을 들어 빨대로 포도주스를 쪼르륵 마셨다. "안 가겠다, 이거야? 기어이 손을 대게 만들려는 거야!" 고시우가 소리쳤다. 예단은 고시우의 분노 폭발한 반응에 전혀 동요하지 않았고, 그를 없는 사람 취급했다. 고시우의 표정이 더욱 어두워졌다. 예단이 꼼짝도 하지 않자 짜증이 난 그는 그녀를 끌어내기 위해 한 걸음 다가섰다. 예단은 눈살을 찌푸렸다. 그녀가 몸을 움직이려던 그때, 고시우의 뒤에서 한 남자의 숨 가쁜 목소리가 들려왔다. "비켜!" 초도억은 주저하지 않고 고시우에게 달려들어 마치 장난감을 잡듯이 그의 옷깃을 움켜쥐고 옆으로 내던진 뒤, 예단의 앞을 가로막고 서서 보호 태세를 취했다. 키가 195센티미터 되는 초동석은 몸집이 건장했고, 그의 근육질 팔은 무척 힘세 보였다. "이게 뭐 하는 짓입니까?" 초동석은 고시우를 사나운 눈빛으로 쏘아보며 손가락 관절이 딱딱 소리가 날 정도로 주먹을 꽉 쥐고 말했다. "왜 우리 누나를 괴롭히는 거야? 죽고 싶어 환장했어?" "너는 누구야?" 조금 전, 쓰레기처럼 내팽개쳐졌던 고시우가 소리쳤다. 그는 비틀거리며 일어나서 성난 눈빛으로 초동석을 노려봤다. ...... 앞으로는 어떤 전개가 펼쳐질까요? 완정한 스토리를 즐기고 싶으시다면 아래의 버튼을 눌러 App을 다운로드 받으세요. (App을 오픈 시 자동으로 열독 중인 이 작품으로 스킵합니다) &9&		Happy reading		485	https://www.facebook.com/61566043183664/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656487	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691945	1748420576		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Yd3jqv7GEWYQ7kNvgFb5edu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ars9_Gpx2Sw7S_y50lUorjE&oh=00_AYCHQo3rZJbtl_9HrA-pmkNyOqzYwUL3hldzv6vRJDpVoQ&oe=677A66CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656774	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/13/25, 11:46 PM	1735691950	1749876418		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656691	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 12:48 AM	1735691949	1749880101		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467993308_1971135373330962_6152744400347345039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M7ZeXcGXqa8Q7kNvgFvCNbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYD53EMzxcNgf8x0Pye0OecFD1sGrhhcTbbeQuUIeT7XAw&oe=677A6F1B	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Dexter Bamford,let's get a divorce." Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela,he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes.He knew she feared losing him. The term"divorce"was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now,she had uttered it so casually. Dexter questioned in a cold voice,"What?Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday?Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela,are you out of your mind?You cried and begged to be Mrs.Bamford.You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around.I even propped up your failing family.What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hold back anymore.She retorted loudly,almost shouting,"Mrs.Bamford?So what if I'm Mrs.Bamford?Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study,grabbed a bulky contract,and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully."You should know what this is better than I do!I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family.But when I come home,even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs.Bamford because of my family's plotting,I don't want it anymore!Do you have a problem with that?" He raised an eyebrow mockingly."Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family?What about the debt you and your family owe me?"		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656678	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 1:37 AM	1735691948	1749883027		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656946	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691956	1748420577		2174																											Send message			MULTI_IMAGES						1.5784805757588E+14	Rock N Roll Tattoo Las Vegas	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472234388_1124389415978448_8378411478075766490_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=T9DdRjjoqfIQ7kNvgH3efUN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWRFp0b9i4LT6aURie9pqIm&oh=00_AYAfVgWHAxJ-hPW3_5tpXdLXYua2kxCVyxHEtQbIae28Lg&oe=677A665A	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		NEW YEARS EVE Yes we are open! Get tattooed before the party starts 2 for $60 3pm - 10pm Walkins only Cash only Text 702 818 9767 Calls 702 476 1536		Rock N Roll Tattoo Las Vegas		22086	https://www.facebook.com/RocknRollTattooLV/	0		MESSAGE_PAGE								View Edit Delete
2656683	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 2:25 AM	1735691948	1749885931		2174																										redtgb.com	Learn More			DCO	❤️😍 click to read on 👉		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.303035935086E+14	Happyday	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4yxozoKqaXUQ7kNvgEwG_Or&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDPgBzDUrs-T-Um9yChX2liv0mlk64t-WRbYe321tuLuA&oe=677A56B4	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.		Happyday		1508	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656667	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 3:06 AM	1735691948	1749888409		2174																										befant.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			2.1900405462262E+14	Galaxy in the Story	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HZzkb6RvNisQ7kNvgFw7iAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDTFbrij703ME6ChcLQaTEMjgl43KZUknAsiYgemHk_Og&oe=677A54AD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "		Galaxy in the Story		1826	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656898	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 4:16 AM	1735691953	1749892565		2174																														IMAGE						1.1300121694033E+14	Green Light Cinema	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471999798_1572612036948850_7050538707077286419_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Oe37TFNGwAMQ7kNvgEauRVU&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYAAZY8XLjZ2ll7KnBpQ80TczIc_Hg6X8Rz6OssnvPGFtA&oe=677A6828	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		"As the first Indian feature invited to compete at Cannes in nearly three decades, Payal Kapadia’s narrative début would be notable enough; that the movie is so delicately felt and sensuously textured is cause for outright celebration." - The New Yorker "Small in its movements and thoughtful in its observations, All We Imagine As Light is quietly resonant." - Austin Chronicle "There are a million stories in the naked city, and Kapadia is about to show you three of them in the most delicate, moving way possible. She’s also about to mount a quiet, sneak attack on your soul." - Rolling Stone .⁠ ⁠ ALL WE IMAGINE AS LIGHT • Starts Friday • Showing @ GLC for One Week Only (1/3 - 1/9) ⁠ Centering on two roommates who also work together in a city hospital — head nurse Prabha and recent hire Anu — plus their coworker, cook Parvaty, Kapadia’s film alights on moments of connection and heartache, hope and disappointment to create a soulful study of the transformative power of friendship and sisterhood, in all its complexities and richness. ⁠ 2024 | Malayalam, Hindi, Marathi | 1h 58m | Drama, Romance Not Rated Director: Payal Kapadia Writers: Payal Kapadia Stars: Kani Kusruti, Divya Prabha, Chhaya Kadam All showtimes and tickets are listed at greenlightstpete.com 🎟️⁠ ⁠ .⁠ ⁠ Shown with Courtesy of Sideshow / Janus Films.		Green Light Cinema		2776	https://www.facebook.com/stpetemovies/	0										View Edit Delete
2656408	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 3:36 AM	1735691943	1749890206		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468406513_939184401466146_9101955595814569032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=G6a7vY4vM-AQ7kNvgHlTO55&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYDW0R4r_9abe9DrLQUjc-7EP-6clQckT7vrAmenriWjaQ&oe=677A74AC	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656393	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691943	1748420577		2174																										jacacas.com	Shop now			IMAGE	Custom couple heart-shaped carving night light	Personalized couple heart-shaped carving night light	https://www.jacacas.com/SK221			1.05145992238E+14	jacacas.com	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/409453761_6898470670246763_1466778917016237346_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=s2fUtPFjiRoQ7kNvgGoVHT7&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYCBVaa4ZGs_-A9rTYFc53CkL8OSbJkbJJI7CTBzC-h1IA&oe=677A76AF	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💘 Personalized couple heart-shaped carving night light 😍 buy now 🎁 https://www.jacacas.com/SK221 💘😍 The perfect gift for your friends or family		jacacas.com		61	https://www.facebook.com/jacacascom/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656882	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/12/25, 6:51 PM	1735691952	1749772311		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			IMAGE	계속 읽기👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65152436-fb_contact-kra210_2-1203-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1085029615921206&jump=1&rawadid=120213598975960274			4.6757881642794E+14	Happy reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469272970_8679765908808254_8421059193528692183_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vr7XtzBwaewQ7kNvgEjR10O&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AciAWQcocHWzhbKyRIxwROP&oh=00_AYCUZOufR3IK-HXSkpLEW2d7gLkcDXLCNPd80n0xuEGdaA&oe=677A598F	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		남편의 배신을 받게 되었다. 모든 사람들이 그녀의 불행을 비웃었지만 누가 알았으랴. 고졸도 하지 못한 그녀의 정체는 최고의 해커이자 일류 레이서에 세계적으로 유명한 의학교수였으며 유명한 보석 디자이너인 것이다. ===== "얼른 이혼 서류에 서명하고 고씨 가문에서 나가! 시우는 회사 일 때문에 바빠. 너한테 낭비할 시간이 없는 애라고!" 고영서가 짜증을 냈다. 예단의 발치에 서류 하나가 툭 떨어졌다. 서류 아래쪽의 서명이 한눈에 들어왔다. 고시우. "시우 씨는 어디 있죠? 왜 시우 씨가 직접 와서 말하지는 않는 거예요?" 예단이 물었다. 고영서는 마치 예단이 터무니없는 질문을 한다는 듯이 코웃음을 쳤다. "내 동생이 너 같은 애한테 신경 쓸 시간이 있는 줄 알아?" 고영서는 예단을 머리부터 발끝까지 훑어봤다. 예단의 아름다운 외모는 부정할 수 없었다. 고영서조차도 예단을 처음에 보고 감탄할 정도였으니 말이다. 하지만 예단의 아름다운 외모는 언제나 가려져 있었다. 그녀의 숱 많은 앞머리와 큰 검은 뿔테 안경에 그녀의 조그마한 얼굴이 거의 가려졌고, 늘 헐렁한 운동복을 입고 있어서 균형 잡힌 몸매를 완전히 감춰 버렸다. 고영서는 예단을 집안일 밖에 할 줄 모르는 주부일 뿐이라고 생각했다. 예단은 입술을 깨물더니 갑자기 웃음을 터드렸다. "일 하느라 바쁜 거예요? 아니면 하지우 씨와 시간 보내느라 바쁜 거예요?" 예단이 씁쓸하게 말했다. 고시우가 10년 동안 사랑한 여자 하지우! 3년간의 위태로운 결혼 생활 동안 먹구름마냥 그림자를 드리우고 있었다. 그 당시, 하지우가 결혼을 앞두고 사라져버린 탓에, 고씨 가문은 A시의 웃음거리가 될 뻔했다. 예단은 고시우의 할아버지 고필두와 했던 약속을 지키고, 어린 시절 고시우에게 진 빚을 갚기 위해 망설임 없이 고시우와 결혼했다. 예단은 은혜를 갚기 위해 자신의 정체를 숨기고 자신의 모든 것을 남편과 고씨 집안에 헌신했다. 고씨 가문에 시집온 이후, 예단은 시부모님을 잘 모셨고, 고영서를 열심히 도왔다. 돈을 흥정망정 쓰는 고영서는 돈이 부족할 때마다 예단에게 도움을 요청하곤 했다. 고영서가 남편에게 폭행 당할 때마다 고씨 가문 사람들은 자신들에게 부정적인 영향을 미칠까 봐 늘 모르는 척했다. 예단이 도와주지 않았다면 고영서는 어떤 험한 일을 당했을지 몰랐고, 순조롭게 이혼할 수도 없었을 것이다. '이제 와서 날 무시하고 잘난 척을 해!' 이혼 합의서의 조건을 살펴보던 예단은 갑자기 서류를 닫고 테이블 위에 내려놓았다. "이혼은 동의하겠지만, 시우 씨 재산의 절반은 나에게 줘야 해요." 놀라 눈을 크게 뜬 고영서는 테이블을 내리치며 벌떡 일어섰다. "꿈 깨! 고씨 가문에 시집 오면 네 팔자가 필 거라고 생각했나 보지? 넌 한 푼도 못 받고 나가게 될 거야!" 예단은 차분하게 앞치마를 벗고 헐렁한 홈웨어의 지퍼를 내렸다. 그러자 몸매가 돋보이는 매끈한 상의와 청바지가 드러났다. 예단은 안경을 벗고 미소를 지으며 고영서를 바라봤다. "결정은 형님이 내리는 게 아니죠. 시우 씨와 직접 얘기해 볼게요." 고영서는 촌스럽기만 하던 예단이 눈깜짝할 사이에 분위기가 확 다른 사람으로 변신하자 깜짝 놀라 잠시 말문이 막혔다. 고영서가 정신을 차렸을 때, 예단은 이미 입구로 걸어가고 있었다. "어딜 가? 당장 이리 와서 서류에 서명하지 못해!" 고영서가 소리쳤다. 분노에 사로잡힌 고영서는 서류를 움켜쥐고 멀어져가는 예단에게 던졌다. 종이가 공중에 펄럭이며 예단을 아슬아슬하게 지나쳤다. 그리고 밖으로 나가자마자 재빨리 전화를 걸었다. "고시우가 어디 있는지 알려줘." 오후 4시가 되자 코니세그 한 대가 능숙하게 교통체증을 헤치고 나가며 고속도로를 질주했다. "찾았어. 성심 대극장에 있네. GPS 설정해 놨어." 블루투스 스피커에서 약간 불안한 듯한 목소리가 흘러 나왔다. "단아, 성급하게 행동하지 마. 고시우는 그럴 가치가 없는 사람이야..." 짜증나기도 하고 우습기도 한 예단은 눈썹을 찌푸리며 말했다. "걱정 마. 내가 왜 그러겠어." "그야..." 전화 반대편에서 서희연이 반박했다. "너는 평소에는 침착한 애지만, 열 살 때 너를 구해준 사람이 고시우라는 걸 알게 된 이후로 완전히 달라졌잖아. 네 가치를 알아보지 못하는 사람 때문에 왜 자신을 희생하려는 거야? 그 사람을 위해 진짜 신분과 능력까지 숨기고... 대체 왜 그러는 건데?" "그만해!" 예단이 소리쳤다. "그 사람 때문에 그러는 거 아니야. 너, 우리 집안 상황이 지금 얼마나 복잡한지 알잖아." 서희연이 단지 그녀가 걱정돼서 하는 말이라는 걸 깨닫고 예단은 목소리를 낮췄다. "걱정 마. 그냥 이혼하려고 그러는 거니까." "뭐? 맙소사..." 서희연이 헉 소리를 냈다. 서희연이 큰 소리를 내기 전에 예단은 재빨리 전화를 끊었다. 그녀는 엑셀을 세게 밟으며 미소를 지었다. 예단은 앞을 가로막고 있던 부가티를 능숙하게 피한 다음 빠른 속도로 달려나가기 시작했다. 한편, 검은색 부가티의 뒷좌석에 앉은 남자가 차가운 목소리로 말했다. "코니세그를 따라가. 박천주에게 다음 교차로에서 저 차를 막으라고 알려." 비서는 차 속도를 높이며 떨리는 목소리로 물었다. "대표님, 저 차가 무슨 문제라도 있습니까?" 남자는 등을 기대고 입술을 살짝 벌리더니 중얼거렸다. "오랜만이야, 트라이언트." 제2화 그녀는 트라이언트 트라이언트? 운전석에 앉아 있던 온진형은 놀라 움찔했다. 수년간 언더그라운드 레이싱 랭킹 순위를 장악하며 챔피언으로 활약했던 전설적인 그 트라이언트가 저 사람이라고? 트라이언트는 3년 전에 흔적도 없이 사라지지 않았었나? 트라이언트가 왜 지금 갑자기 A시에 나타난 걸까? 게다가 세련된 코니세그의 운전자는 여성인 것 같았다. 그러나 뒷좌석에 앉은 남자가 확신을 담아 말하자 온진형은 아무 말도 하지 않았다. 그는 앞서 가는 차에 온전히 집중하며 절대 놓치지 않을 거라 결심했다. 예단은 부가티를 추월하면서 왼쪽 사이드 미러를 흘깃 보며 눈살을 찌푸렸다. 그녀는 블루투스 이어폰을 두드리며 차분하면서도 단호한 목소리로 말했다. "희연아, 위성에 접속해. 8시 방향에 부가티가 따라오고 있어. 차주를 확인해줘." 서희연은 당황했지만 재빨리 그녀의 말을 따랐다. 차주를 알아낸 그녀는 한숨을 쉬며 이어폰에 대고 말했다. "배씨 가문의 차야. 이 차 주인은... 배도훤이야!" 예단의 눈에는 놀란 기색이 역력했다. "말도 안 돼. 어떻게 아는 사이야?" 서희연이 당황한 듯 말했다. "지난달 해외 금융 중심지 울 스트리트에서 돌아왔다는 소식은 들었어. 이미 A시를 뒤집어 놓았고 오래된 가문들 사이의 권력 구도까지 바꿔놓았대." 서희연이 망설이다가 의심스러운 듯이 물었다. "너, 배씨 그룹 사람이랑 뭐... 있었어?" "야!" 예단이 블루투스 이어폰을 두드리며 체념한 듯 말했다. "아무리 나라도 그 정도로 욕심이 많지는 않아. 게다가 지난 3년 동안 나는 A시에 있었다고. 해외로 여행을 갈 때마다 흔적이 남기지 않으려고, 신분 위조까지 하면서 다녔어. 얼마나 번거로운데. 내가 배씨 그룹 사람들을 건드릴 시간이나 있었을 것 같아?" 서희연은 자신의 실수를 깨닫고 서둘러 말했다. "맞아, 이게 다 고시우 때문이야. 그 사람만 아니었어도 너는..." "됐어. 부가티의 스마트 시스템을 원격으로 해킹할 수 있을까? 지금 당장 해결하지 않으면 배도훤은 내가 현장에서 고시우를 잡는 걸 보게 될 거야." 예단은 다시 백미러를 힐끗 쳐다봤다. 부가티가 점점 더 거리를 좁히며 다가오고 있었다. "안 돼!" 서희연이 긴박한 목소리로 말했다. "수동 자동 모드 둘 다 달려있는 차야. 단순히 시스템을 중단하는 것만으로는 효과가 없다고!" 예단은 이마를 더욱 세게 찌푸리며 입을 열려는 순간 서희연이 갑자기 다급한 목소리로 말했다. "단아, 속도 늦춰! 2킬로미터 앞 교차로에서 바리케이드가 쳐져 있어!" 먼지와 잔해로 뒤섞인 안개가 걷히고 앞길이 드러나자, 예단은 짜증을 내며 말했다. "정말 멋진 광경이네." 빠른 속도로 달리던 코니세그는 곧 앞에서 뒤까지 뻗은 바리케이드에 갇혀 멈출 수밖에 없었다. 예단은 아스팔트 도로 위에서 완전히 궁지에 몰리고 말았다. 그녀의 앞에는 스포츠카 6대가, 그녀 뒤에는 부가티가 위풍당당하게 가로막고 서 있었다. 그녀는 좌석에 기대앉아 흥미롭다는 듯이 눈썹을 치켜올렸다. 선두에 있는 페라리의 운전자가 무리의 우두머리가 분명했다. 그는 예단에게 차에서 내려 대화를 나누자고 손짓했다. 그럼에도 불구하고 예단의 시선은 백미러에 비친 부가티에 고정되어 있었다. 거리가 멀어서 운전자의 얼굴이 겨우 보였다. 뒷좌석에 앉은 배도훤의 모습은 약간 가려져 있었지만, 살짝 보이는 검은 정장은 여전히 위압적인 아우라를 내뿜고 있었다. 온진형은 코니세그가 한참 동안 움직이지 않는 것을 보고 뒷좌석을 힐끗 보며 말했다. "대표님, 박천주를 시켜서 억지로 끌어내리라고 할까요?" 배도훤은 다리를 꼬고 앉아 중지 손가락에 끼워진 투르말린 반지를 무심하게 돌리며 말했다. "기다려." 배도훤은 두꺼운 차창 너머로 앞차에 탄 예단과 시선을 마주치는 듯했다. 그는 작게 웃음을 터뜨렸다. "이렇게 쉽게 잡히면 트라이언트가 아니지." 예단의 인내심이 한계에 다다랐다. 그녀는 앞쪽의 교통 상황을 살펴보았다. 상대 무리는 주저하는 듯해 보였다. 그녀를 차에서 끌어내리려고 하는 대신 서로 신호만 주고받을 뿐이었다. "희연아, 성심 대극장으로 가는 다른 길이 있어? 찾아줘." 예단이 물었다. 서희연이 손가락으로 화면 위에서 바쁘게 움직이더 걱정 어린 목소리로 말했다. "하나 있긴 한데, 이 교차로를 지나야 해. 대치 상황에서는 불가능한 거나 다름 없어!" '띵, 경로가 변경되었습니다. 소요 시간 5분 단축됩니다...' 예단은 내비게이션 시스템을 작동시킨 후, 몸을 똑바로 세우고 핸드브레이크를 조정하며 엑셀을 밟았다. 엔진의 우렁찬 소음에 그 무리의 표정이 바뀌었다. 우두머리는 뒤에 있는 부가티로부터 신호를 받은 듯 통신 시도를 중단하고 부하들을 예단 쪽으로 보냈다. 몸싸움까지 각오한 듯 비장해 보였다. 예단의 얼굴에 미소가 번졌다. 남자들이 팔 한 뼘 거리까지 다가온 순간, 그녀는 핸들을 휙 돌리며 엑셀을 밟았다. 그녀는 구경꾼들의 놀란 시선을 받으며 차량 사이로 급격하게 달려나갔다. "내가 지나갈 수 없는 길은 없지!" 전화 반대편에서 서희연이 기뻐하며 소리쳤지만, 그녀의 흥분은 곧 걱정으로 바뀌었다. "배도훤의 바리케이드를 뚫었으니, 이제 저쪽과는 원수가 된 건가?" 예단이 비웃었다. "저쪽에서 먼저 시비 걸었잖아. 그리고 적 하나 더 생긴다고 달라질 게 뭐야?" 그녀가 떠난 뒤에도 자동차 바퀴가 급격하게 턴을 하는 날카로운 소리가 한참 동안 공중에 맴돌았다. 사무실로 돌아온 박천주는 겁에 질리 얼굴로 배도훤을 마주했다. "죄송합니다, 대표님. 트라이언트를 막는 데 실패했습니다. 어떤 벌이든 달게 받겠습니다." 배도훤은 바닥부터 천장까지 닿는 커다란 창문 옆에 서서 A시를 내려다봤다. 그의 시선은 한 건물에 고정되어 있었다. "그 코니세그, 고씨 가문과 관련이 있나?" 온진형은 재빨리 태블릿을 조작하며 대답했다. "기록에 따르면 이 차는 3년 전에 구입한 것으로, 주로 고시우 씨와 그의 아버지가 사용했습니다." 온진형은 잠시 멈칫하더니 계속해서 말했다. "오늘 그 차를 몬 건 고씨우 씨의 아내, 예단이라는 사람인데... 그분이 트라이언트일 리는 없어요." 박천주가 잽싸게 온진형의 말을 가로막았다. "말도 안 돼요! 온 비서님도 그 여자가 바리케이드를 어떻게 부수는지 보셨잖아요. 그 여자가 트라이언트가 아니라면, 어떻게 그런 걸 해낼 수 있겠습니까? 트라이언트가 틀림없어요!" 계속해서 데이터를 살피던 온진형의 표정이 굳어졌다. "기록에 따르면, 예단 씨는 영화 제작사 사장의 딸로, 평범한 집안 출신입니다. 어머니는 일찍 돌아가셨고, 아버지의 재혼 후 이복 오빠와 이복 언니가 생기는 바람에 고등학교를 그만두고 다른 도시로 이사해야 했습니다. 그런 사람이 어떻게 노린산 경주에서 우승까지 거머쥔 레이서가 될 수 있었을까요?" 말문이 막힌 박천주는 본능적으로 배도훤에게로 시선을 돌렸다. 키가 훤칠한 배도훤은 존재 자체만으로도 압도적인 존재감을 드러내고 있었다. 배도훤은 무심히 파텍 필립 시계를 만지작거리며 뜬금없이 웃음을 터뜨렸다. 그의 갑작스런 웃음에 곁에 있던 두 사람은 몸이 오싹해났다. "다음 주의 자선 파티에 고씨 가문을 초대해." 코니세그는 성심 대극장 문 밖에서 끼익 소리를 내며 멈췄다. 세련되고 섹시한 옷을 입고 코니세그에서 내려 먼지가 자욱한 길을 걸어오는 예단의 모습은 더 이상 고시우가 알고 있던 보수적인 주부가 아니었다. 고시우가 짜증을 내며 어두워진 표정으로 소리쳤다. "예단..." 예단은 장난기 가득하면서도 위협적인 미소를 짓더니 자동차 열쇠를 가볍게 흔들며 고시우를 향해 다가갔다. "위대한 고 대표님은 내연녀 콘서트 보러 갈 시간은 있으면서 이혼할 시간은 없으신가 봐요. 그래서 내가 직접 이혼 서류를 들고 왔죠." 변함없이 하지우를 감싸고 도는 고시우의 모습에 예단은 조금 씁쓸해졌다. 예단이 선언했다. "고시우, 그렇게 사랑하는 사람 곁에 있고 싶으면, 이혼 서류에 서명하고 재산을 똑같이 나누도록 하자. 하지만 단 한 푼이라도 적게 주면 이혼에 동의하지 않을 거야. 그렇게 되면 당신과 당신의 연인은 평생을 불륜이라는 말을 들으며 살 수 밖에 없게 되겠지." 제3화 내 비참한 결혼 생활과 함께 침몰했어 고시우는 평소에 순종적이고 다루기 쉬운 아내가 이렇게 변할 줄은 전혀 예상하지 못했다. "꿈 깨!" 고시우가 짜증을 내며 어두워진 표정으로 소리쳤다. "그만해, 예단. 내 관심을 끌기 위해서 이런 짓을 하는 거라면 이제 그만 둬." 그가 경고하는 듯한 눈빛으로 말했다. "그럴수록 더 정이 떨어질 뿐이라고." 예단은 처음으로 고시우가 자신에 대해 잘 아는 듯이 제멋대로 말하자 흥미를 느꼈다. "돈 얘기하는데 감정 얘기는 왜 꺼내? 역겹지도 않아?" 예단은 두 사람을 향해 싱긋 웃으며 고시우를 향해 날카롭게 말했다. "하지우 씨가 그렇게 좋았으면 따라서 해외로 가버리지 그랬어? 왜 나와 결혼한 거야? 그 정도로 사랑이 깊지는 않았나 보지?" 그녀의 말에 정곡을 찔린 고시우가 재빨리 대답했다. "할아버지가 고씨 그룹을 이용해 나를 협박했던 거 알잖아. 그렇지 않고서야 내가 지우가 떠나는 걸 가만히 앉아서 지켜봤을 리가..." "그러니까, 돈 때문이라는 거잖아?" 예단이 날카롭게 반박했다. "그럼 그 진정한 사랑이라는 것도 고씨 가문의 재산 상속 앞에서는 아무것도 아닌 거네?" 예단이 조롱하듯이 웃었다. "고시우 씨, 사랑 밖에 모르는 치정남인 척 좀 그만해!" 모두의 앞에서 자신의 속셈이 밝혀지자, 고시우의 얼굴이 벌겋게 달아올랐다. 그때 하지우가 나서 사려 깊은 목소리로 재빨리 그를 변호하기 시작했다. "예단 씨, 시우 씨와 내 사이를 그렇게 틀어놔야겠어요? 시우 씨도 시우 씨 나름대로의 이유가 있었을 거예요." 그러면서 하지우는 의미심장하면서도 도발적인 눈빛으로 예단을 마주봤다. "예단 씨, 재산 분할에서 더 많은 이득을 보기 위해 나와 시우 씨의 관계를 이간질하려는 거 다 알아요. 애초에 예단 씨는 돈을 목적으로 결혼한 거잖아요?" 그녀의 말에 예단에 대한 고시우의 혐오감은 더욱 커졌다. "그럴 줄 알았어! 당신은 언제나 욕심이 많았지. 이미 2억 송금했고, 그 아우디도 곧 당신 명의가 될 거야. 고씨 가문에게 그런 것쯤은 쉽게 해낼 수 있는 일이야. 당신네 가족처럼 하찮은 집안이 아니니까..." "그 정도로는 안 되지!" 예단은 고시우를 바라보며 날카롭게 반박했다. "당신은 억만장자야. 우리의 공동 재산과 차, 부동산을 모두 고려하면 최소한 천 억은 줘야지. 지금 당신 누나가 준 중고 아우디로 퉁 치려고 하는 거야?" 예단의 날카로운 시선이 하지우에게로 향하자, 그녀는 본능적으로 몸을 움츠렸다. "내가 잘못 본 게 아니라면, 당신 애인이 하고 있는 목걸이 가격이 최소 2억이 되지 않나?" 고시우는 하지우의 앞을 막아서며 말했다. "예단, 부끄러운 줄도 몰라? 지우의 목걸이는 내가 선물한 거야. 돈밖에 모르는 당신과는 달리 순수하고 착한 여자라고!" 예단은 고개를 끄덕이며 반박했다. "그러니까, 돈 주기 싫다 이거지, 지금?" 그 말과 함께 그녀는 돌아서서 코니세그에 다시 올라탔다. 모두가 그녀의 행동에 의아해하며 지켜보고 있을 때, 스포츠카 엔진의 굉음이 공기를 가르며 울려퍼졌다. 매끈한 검은색 슈퍼카가 날쌘 화살처럼 앞으로 달려나가며, 텅 빈 계단을 따라 내려가 무대로 곧장 돌진했다. "쾅!" 방심하고 있던 고시우와 하지우는 흩날리는 나무 파편을 덮어 쓰고 말았다. 하지우는 날카로운 비명을 질렀고, 고시우는 분노가 치밀어 올라 소리쳤다. "예단, 한 번만 더 이러면 가만히 두지 않을..." 하지만 예단은 그의 충고를 완전히 무시했다. 그녀는 차를 후진하며 무대와의 안전 거리를 두고 멈춰 세웠다. "고시우 씨, 다시 한 번 물을게. 재산 분할 할 거야, 말 거야?" 그녀가 긴장이 팽팽한 분위기를 뚫고 소리쳤다. 엔진의 굉음에 고시우의 얼굴이 새하얗게 질렸다. 위협적인 차와 어마어마한 예단의 존재감에 짓눌린 그는 미처 탈출할 생각조차 못하고 제자리에 얼어붙었다. 그는 경비를 부르려고 했지만, 경비원과 사람들은 모두 겁에 질려 도망가고 없었다. 이 대치 상황에서는 세 사람만이 남아 있었다. 예단, 완전히 미쳐버렸네! 예단은 겁에 질린 고시우와 하지우의 얼굴을 보고 만족스러운 미소를 지었다. 무서운 엔진 소리가 더욱 커지더니 고시우의 공포에 질린 시선 아래서 자동차는 다시 한 번 무대를 향해 돌진했다! "알았어! 당신 말대로 재산 분할 하면 되잖아!" 차는 무대에서 몇 센티미터 떨어진 곳에서 겨우 멈췄다. 앞 범퍼가 아슬아슬하게 무대를 스칠 뻔했다. 예단은 이제 너덜너덜해진 차 문을 발로 박차고 침착하게 차에서 내려 팔짱을 낀 채 떨고 있는 두 사람을 마주보았다. 고시우는 심호흡을 하며 평정심을 되찾으려고 애썼다. "하지만 다음 주까지 기다려야 해. 이번 주말은 할아버지 생신이야. 아직은 이혼 소식을 전할 수 없어." 고필두 할아버지는 언제나 예단에게 친절했고, 그녀 역시 그의 생일을 망칠 생각은 없었다. 예단은 어깨를 으쓱하며 말했다. "오늘 약속은 꼭 지켜. 이렇게 많은 눈이 우리를 주목하는 가운데 고씨 가문의 후계자가 감히 자기가 내뱉은 말을 번복하지는 않겠지?" 그녀의 말에 반박할 수 없었던 고시우는 좌절해서 이를 악물었다. 예단은 몇 걸음 앞으로 나아가, 하지우를 지나치고 고시우에게 시선을 고정하며 가볍게 혀를 찼다. "사실, 저 차는 처음에 무대에 부딪혔을 때 벌써 망가졌어. 그냥 당신을 놀라게 하려고 엔진을 켜놓았을 뿐이야. 어차피 부딪히지도 못했을 거야." 고시우는 충격에 눈이 휘둥그래졌다. 예단은 눈썹을 치켜 올리고 비꼬듯이 말했다. "당신 같은 사람에게 그렇게 좋은 차를 허비하다니." 말이 끝난 그녀는 눈길 한 번 주지 않고 밖으로 나갔다. 고시우는 정신을 못 차리고 그 자리에 잠시 멍하니 서 있었다. 순식간에 너무 많은 일이 벌어져 받아들이는 데 시간이 필요했다. 그는 예단이 떠나는 것을 보고서야 3년 동안 평범했던 아내가 자신도 모르고 있었던 숨겨진 매력이 있을 거라는 생각이 들었다. "다 나 때문이에요, 시우 씨! 나를 보호하려 하지만 않았어도 그런 터무니없는 요구를 절대 들어주지 않았을 텐데!" 하지우는 고시우의 옷깃을 붙잡고 떨리는 목소리로 말했다. 그녀가 눈물을 보이자 고시우는 다시 그녀에게로 시선을 고정했다. 고시우는 하지우를 끌어안고 부드럽게 위로하기 시작했다. "네 탓이 아니야. 다 욕심 많은 저 여자 탓이지. 내가 방심한 틈을 타 자기가 원하는 걸 요구하다니." 하지우는 눈물을 글썽이며 그를 올려다봤다. "이제 우리 어떡해요? 당신이 오랫동안 심혈을 기울여 고씨 그룹을 경영한 덕분에 지금의 재산을 소유할 수 있게 된 건데, 저 여자는 아무것도 안 했잖아요. 그런 여자가 당신 재산의 절반을 가져가다니요?" 하지우는 입술을 깨물었다. "나는 어떤 상황에도 당신을 지지할 거예요. 하지만 이런 부당한 일이 벌어지는 걸 가만 두고 볼 수는 없어요. 시우 씨 어머니와 누님이 이 얘기를 들으면 많이 화나실 텐데요." 고시우는 코웃음을 쳤다. "우선 알겠다고는 했지만, 순순히 따라 줄 수는 없지." 아수라장이 된 극장 밖에서 예단은 서희연에게 전화를 걸었다. "성심 대극장으로 데리러 올 수 있어?" 서희연이 의아해하며 물었다. "코니세그 끌고 갔잖아?" 자신의 손을 내려다본 예단은 조금 전에 충돌 때문에 생긴 상처를 발견했다. 상처는 얕았지만 넓게 퍼져 있었고, 이제는 피가 나기 시작했다. "내 비참한 결혼 생활과 함께 침몰했어." 제4화 배씨 가문의 연회 초대장 그 한마디 말에 담긴 뜻을 이해한 서희연은 순간 숨이 멎는 듯했다. 호기심이 생긴 그녀는 재빨리 차 키를 챙겨 예단을 데리러 나갔다. 서희연이 고속도로를 따라 질주하는 페라리 안에서 믿을 수 없다는 듯이 외쳤다. "그 끔찍한 커플을 그냥 들이받지 그랬어?" 예단은 침착하게 상처를 치료하면서 대답했다. "법은 어기지 않는 편이 좋으니까." 서희연은 말문이 막혔다. 그녀는 예단이 이 대화를 꺼린다는 것을 깨닫고 재빨리 주제를 바꿨다. "아, 그 자선 연회 말이야. 너 특별 게스트로 초대받았잖아. 이번에는 갈 거지?" 예단이 대답하기도 전에 서희연이 말했다. "어차피 이혼할 거잖아. 이제 그 멍청한 고시우한테 더 이상 숨길 필요 없지 않아?" 서희연이 입을 삐죽 내밀며 덧붙였다. "이번 연회 준비하느라 얼마나 고생을 했는데. 아빠한테 좋은 인상을 주고 싶단 말이야. 너는 내 가장 친한 친구잖아. 올 거지, 응?" "알았어." 예단이 체념한 듯한 미소를 지으며 말했다. "네가 원한다면야!" 서희연은 기뻐서 신나게 경적을 울려댔다. "좋아, 내일 여섯 시 정각이야! 초동석을 입구로 보낼게!" 그녀는 아침 일정을 완벽하게 소화했고, 행사 시작 30분 전에 여유롭게 연회장에 도착했다. 예단은 진짜 정체를 숨긴데다 이전에 참석 뜻을 제대로 밝히지 않은 탓에 공식 초대장을 받지 못했다. 그래서 그녀는 입구 근처에 있는 작은 파빌리온에 앉아 커피를 마시며 초동석이 도착하기를 기다리고 있었다. 그녀가 커피를 반쯤 마셨을 때 초동석이 문자를 보내왔다. "늦어서 죄송합니다, 천재 디자이너님! 10분 안에 도착해요!" 예단이 속으로 웃으며 답장을 보내려고 하던 그 때, 비꼬는 듯한 목소리가 들려왔다. "이게 누구야, 예단 씨잖아요? 여기서 당신을 만날 줄은 몰랐네요. 시우 씨에게 위자료를 달라고 구걸하면서 배씨 가문의 연회까지 발을 들이려고 하다니. 하지만 말이죠..." 그녀의 목소리가 점점 차가워졌다. "이 연회는 당신 같은 사람이 참석할 수 있는 자리가 아니에요. 주제를 알아야지." 제5화 기어이 손을 대게 만드는 거야 예단은 멈칫하더니 천천히 고개를 들었다. 하지우가 가식적으로 걱정해주는 척 그녀를 내려다보고 있었다. 예단은 붉은 입술을 말아 올리며 날카롭게 대답했다. "당신이 무슨 상관이죠? 내가 배씨 가문 연회에 가든 말든, 당신이 알 바 아니잖아요." 하지우는 예단의 직설적인 대답에 조금 놀란 듯 눈이 동그래졌다. 예단은 등나무 의자에 기대어 앉아 무심하게 핸드폰을 톡톡 두드렸다. 그녀는 매혹적인 눈으로 하지우를 놀리듯이 쳐다봤다. 하지우는 확실히 교활했다. 누구라도 발끈할 태도와 말투를 잘 쓰는 것 같았다. "예단?" 바로 그때, 고시우가 다가왔다. 그는 예단을 여기서 볼 줄은 상상조차 못했다. 고시우가 눈살을 찌푸렸고, 그의 잘생긴 얼굴이 즉시 어두워졌다. "나를 망신시키려고 여기까지 온 거야?" 고시우는 화를 내며 소리쳤다. "그냥 좀 꺼져!" 하지우는 마치 자신의 지위를 선언하기라도 하듯 일부러 고시우의 팔을 끌어안으며 도전적인 눈빛으로 예단을 바라봤다. 예단은 그런 무례한 행동을 참고 넘어갈 사람이 아니었다. 그녀는 손가락을 꽉 움켜쥐더니 고시우를 경멸스럽다는 듯이 바라보며 차가운 미소를 지었다. "다시 말해볼래? 지금 감히 누구 보고 꺼지라는 거야?" 예단은 검은색 실크 슬립 드레스를 입고 가느다란 다리를 우아하게 꼬고 앉아 있었다. 그녀의 흠잡을 데 없는 피부와 눈길을 끄는 이목구비는 엄청난 매력을 선사했다. 그녀의 목소리는 흔들림 없이 차분했지만, 온몸에서 차가운 분위기를 내뿜고 있었다. 압박감이 급습해왔다. 고시우는 갑작스럽게 변한 분위기에 당황한 채 잠시 얼어붙었다. 이 여자가 정말로 순종적이기만 하던 그의 아내라니! 짜증이 난 하지우는 눈살을 찌푸렸다. 마지막으로 예단을 만났을 때, 하지우는 그녀가 정신이 나간 줄 알았다. 하지우는 예단이 또 다시 난동을 부려 자신이 망신 당하게 될까 봐 걱정되어 목소리를 누그러뜨리고 순진한 척 연기했다. "예단 씨, 이만 가 보세요. 초대장은 하나 밖에 없고, 시우 씨는 나를 데리고 들어가기로 했어요. 예단 씨가 여기에서 버티고 있는다고 해서 들어갈 수 있는 연회가 아니에요. 게다가 예단 씨는 문제만 일으키잖아요. 왜 자꾸 일을 어렵게 만드는 거예요?" 예단은 하지우를 차가운 시선으로 쳐다봤다. 그녀는 이미 고시우의 진짜 모습을 훤히 잘 알고 있다. 이젠 고시우에게도, 이 결혼 생활도 철저히 희망을 잃었다. 이제 하지우의 태도나 말은 그녀에게 아무런 영향을 미치지 못했다. "당신이 무슨 상관이에요?" 예단은 하지우의 말에 전혀 동요하지 않고 차분하게 대답했다. 그녀는 무심코 잔을 들어 빨대로 포도주스를 쪼르륵 마셨다. "안 가겠다, 이거야? 기어이 손을 대게 만들려는 거야!" 고시우가 소리쳤다. 예단은 고시우의 분노 폭발한 반응에 전혀 동요하지 않았고, 그를 없는 사람 취급했다. 고시우의 표정이 더욱 어두워졌다. 예단이 꼼짝도 하지 않자 짜증이 난 그는 그녀를 끌어내기 위해 한 걸음 다가섰다. 예단은 눈살을 찌푸렸다. 그녀가 몸을 움직이려던 그때, 고시우의 뒤에서 한 남자의 숨 가쁜 목소리가 들려왔다. "비켜!" 초도억은 주저하지 않고 고시우에게 달려들어 마치 장난감을 잡듯이 그의 옷깃을 움켜쥐고 옆으로 내던진 뒤, 예단의 앞을 가로막고 서서 보호 태세를 취했다. 키가 195센티미터 되는 초동석은 몸집이 건장했고, 그의 근육질 팔은 무척 힘세 보였다. "이게 뭐 하는 짓입니까?" 초동석은 고시우를 사나운 눈빛으로 쏘아보며 손가락 관절이 딱딱 소리가 날 정도로 주먹을 꽉 쥐고 말했다. "왜 우리 누나를 괴롭히는 거야? 죽고 싶어 환장했어?" "너는 누구야?" 조금 전, 쓰레기처럼 내팽개쳐졌던 고시우가 소리쳤다. 그는 비틀거리며 일어나서 성난 눈빛으로 초동석을 노려봤다. ...... 앞으로는 어떤 전개가 펼쳐질까요? 완정한 스토리를 즐기고 싶으시다면 아래의 버튼을 눌러 App을 다운로드 받으세요. (App을 오픈 시 자동으로 열독 중인 이 작품으로 스킵합니다) &9&		Happy reading		485	https://www.facebook.com/61566043183664/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656855	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 12:57 PM	1735691952	1748973453		2174																										fbweb.moboreader.net	Learn more			VIDEO	Read next chapter👉		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214135114390250			4.6358262017968E+14	Hello reading-A	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469619279_1272953007238828_7154149976793232676_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=gsc6sJh1Dl0Q7kNvgHmGq5N&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYDKUmOE0aohbY5mEmQxiILWw9AwB3nvfNZddKx02xOkFQ&oe=677A584A	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&		Hello reading-A		2	https://www.facebook.com/61570065204033/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656468	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 12:58 PM	1735691944	1748973481		2174																										wwwedb.com	Learn More			DCO	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.0758161228966E+14	New world publications	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dxuQQCAXqygQ7kNvgHQLK_Q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMaFzaCKiDlLSkjSgUamEk9&oh=00_AYBGQpZ9elAmRM3XGfXMozbYQWnMGgW_PVEeTzO5TVKqog&oe=677A581C	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"		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2656932	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/3/25, 12:56 PM	1735691955	1748973417		2174																										ticketon.com	Shop Now			DCO	COMPRA TUS BOLETOS	{{product.description}}	https://ticketon.com/events/rogelio-ramos-en-tx-mission-tx-2025-01-09-uw50dkswxfk0?code=A6otNx			333988739516	Rogelio Ramos Show	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472016175_9033989390014419_8984823153620843106_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yjj2G4pwZlEQ7kNvgEYJ4UQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AG44x0evIOYOBUeMR3dRgeH&oh=00_AYAwGa0QwAtaqWVkpbh5OmlvbHapAznKBaTv67zchDWLuQ&oe=677A70DD	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		📣MISSION, TEXAS📣 PORQUE USTEDES LO PIDIERON: Regreso el JUE/9 DE ENERO 🙌 en el LADA 52 con mi show ''Prohibido No Reír'' 🙅🤣👌 Vayan a divertirse un rato, se van a reir de principio a fin! 🎟️Boletos ya a la venta por TICKETON!		Rogelio Ramos Show		1750079	https://www.facebook.com/RogelioRamosShow/	0		SHOP_NOW								View Edit Delete
2656553	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 11:24 AM	1735691946	1749918246		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zMgob3wyoO4Q7kNvgHm6tKF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDH6b7q_xEw6bnlsm_45k-FceArrB6dcvRVeOvQ8XY37A&oe=677A562E	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656775	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 12:49 PM	1735691950	1749923366		2174																										beokn.com	Learn More			DCO	😍Read the next chapters👉		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.4292496556255E+14	Random Reading	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k7lyz8WlG1wQ7kNvgEbVDME&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYDtN847PrKhijitWhKYFlTpn-B0vXEfIk1ctYpSqnS29g&oe=677A6343	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.		Random Reading		334	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656588	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	6/14/25, 1:03 PM	1735691947	1749924231		2174																										findedc.com	Learn More			DCO	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			1.4493926537242E+14	Indulge in story	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iv3KycLhnWIQ7kNvgHh8CH0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhQvCO5pjzQdUbjZgtPHGAI&oh=00_AYDWwb2ZOYN7qP6NAPHTOaZtZbod3fvoM8RhiwNJpRbgKQ&oe=677A5507	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar		Indulge in story		910	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656765	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691950	1748420577		2174																										heplk.com	Learn more			IMAGE	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}			3.1105348876231E+14	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466781571_583949707501469_940276474866931517_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=gnyyYJMSnGsQ7kNvgFnELyJ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aq0spFD969MqsLdVMIPxMuI&oh=00_AYCwXm-k2GsluOFVSd8yE71prFK8I4xmZe2GwYeyG1ZRPw&oe=677A59E7	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		夫は私と離婚し、初恋相手と結婚したがっていた。 あの日、彼女と私は同時に水に落ちた。夫は彼女を助け、私を水の中に残した。結局、彼らの子供は助かり、私の子供は亡くなった。 それでも、私は離婚を望まなかった。 しかし、胃癌の診断報告を受けた時、考えが変わった。 残り数ヶ月しか生きられないとわかった今、父を困らせたくない。 2年前に破産して以来、父は昏睡状態で病院に入院していた。 佐藤峻介が愛人と一緒に子供の健康診断のため、病院に行っていた時、私は彼に電話をかけた。 「峻介、離婚しましょう」私は冷静に言った。 「高橋優子、また何を企んでいるんだ？」彼は笑った。 私は目を閉じた。「家で待ってるわ」 家は冷たく空っぽで、ただ、静かだった。 峻介は私より先に到着していた。 私は病院から雨の中を走って家に向かっていた。 「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介は冷たく尋ねた。 「いつから私のことに興味を持つようになったの？」私は無表情で答えた。 「お前に何か問題あったら、書類にサインできなくなるからな」峻介は嘲るように言った。 私は書類をダイニングテーブルに置いた。峻介は「離婚」という言葉をじっと見つめていた。 「安心して、もうサイン済みよ」 私には一つだけ要求があった。それは一千万の慰謝料だった。 「お前が急に離婚を承諾した理由がわかったよ。結局、金のためか」彼は嘲笑した。 以前の私なら弁解しただろうが、今はただ疲れ切っていた。 「本来なら、あなたの資産の半分を取る権利があるのよ、佐藤さん。でも一千万だけにしたの。あなたを配慮しているのよ」 峻介は一歩前に出て、影を私の身に落とした。 彼は細い指で私の顎を掴み、冷たく低い声で言った。「何て呼んだ？」 「佐藤さん、気に入らないなら、元夫とでも呼びましょうか。サインしたら出て行って」 「ここは俺の家だ」彼は言った。 「確かに、私はその権利を持っていないわ。心配しないで、佐藤さん。離婚証明を受け取ったら出て行くわ」 そう言いながら、私は彼の手を払いのけ、彼の目を真っ直ぐ見つめた。 「佐藤さん、明日朝9時に市役所で書類を持ってきて。私たち、きっちり終わらせましょう」		女の子が読みたい小説を大特集		128	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete
2656853	1	active	12/31/24, 6:39 PM	5/28/25, 3:22 AM	1735691952	1748420577		2174																										fbweb.cdreader.com	Learn more			VIDEO	閱讀下一章👉		https://fbweb.cdreader.com/130853449-fb_contact-ft-p103_2-c2-1128-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=809076924536970&rawadid=120215590405040134			4.7515149567892E+14	Love reading - A	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468834779_1328300775195829_8618869574740504760_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=T9cEh3B03vQQ7kNvgFxyNhd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AkljogfFwOJTYottsJURDvQ&oh=00_AYDY0Jpkm5QsZXRpXJb87gM1peVGmF9vXpfLGV15tbwSJQ&oe=677A65F1	PERSON_PROFILE	0					0		她愛上拯救她的陌生男人，卻得知他竟然就是拿她父親貪污案做墊腳石上位的新任市長！血海深仇，她毅然離去，男人卻瘋了，滿城尋她求原諒！ ===== “季小姐，出來吧，你叔叔已經將你五十萬賣給我了，以後跟著我吃香喝辣，你什麼活也不用幹，只管敞開腿伺候就成。” 轟隆聲響起，暴雨傾盆而下，一道閃電劈開長夜照亮了男人肥肉橫生的猥瑣面孔，他半邊臉擠在門框上變了形，眼神卻不停往門縫裡瞄。 房間內，季靈希渾身發抖的死死抵著門。 “滾……滾啊！！”她崩潰大喊，“我有未婚夫，他不會放過你的！” “未婚夫？你是說那位許家孫少爺？”男人爆發出嘲笑，“怎麼？季小姐不會還不知道自己早已經被退婚了吧？嗤，被玩膩的破鞋，還裝什麼矜持！” 說完，他肥豬一般的龐大身軀猛然往脆弱的門上一撞！ “啊！”季靈希被突然劇震的門板嚇到後退，雙手顫抖，“退婚？不可能，不可能……” 可真的不可能嗎？ 自從一個月前，季靈希的父親被誣陷貪汙腐敗入獄，母親車禍後昏迷不醒，整個季氏家族就走向了衰亡。 鉅額家產被全部凍結清算，一夜之間，她從千金小姐變成了負債上億的乞丐。 明天她所在的這套房子也要被查封，她是來取最後的行李的，卻正好被那二叔拿捏了行蹤，居然要乘機將她賣給這將近五十歲的死肥豬男！ 眾叛親離，她徹底一無所有了！ 門外，那死肥豬男的不耐煩的聲音再次傳來：“老子可沒耐心陪你玩小兔子乖乖的開門遊戲，去！讓人把鑰匙送上來！” 他有鑰匙！ 季靈希猝然白了臉，一旦門被破開，結局可想而知。 到時候就算是被侵犯致死都沒人會來替她收屍！ 逃！ 季靈希腦海裡只剩下這一個念頭。 身後窗戶大開，狂風裹挾著暴雨入侵，溼透的窗簾翻飛，天際電蛇狂舞，雷聲轟鳴。 她含著淚一咬牙，猛地衝到了窗前。 二樓而已，摔不死！ 縱身一躍—— 在大腦都壓根沒反應過來之前，人已經滾落在了地面草坪上，渾身溼透沾著汙泥。 “嘶！”說不出到底是哪疼，總之通身都像是要摔散架一般。 “人呢？”“翻窗跑了！”聲音從二樓傳來。 季靈希立刻胡亂爬起來，逃命時腎上激素的飆升讓她爆發出無與倫比的潛力。 逃，快逃，快逃啊！ 她趁著夜色和暴雨的掩蓋，就這樣生生衝出了灌木叢生的後院，往路口奔跑而去。 與此同時，馬路盡頭一輛黑色紅旗飛馳而來，車燈射穿雨幕，照在了突然出現，試圖橫穿馬路的黑影身上！ “我去！”司機沒忍住爆了一聲粗口，猛踩剎車的同時狂打方向盤。 後座衣衫考究的斯文男人猝不及防被巨大的慣性所挾持，一腦袋撞在了前座靠背上。 “砰”一聲悶響。 司機頓時魂飛魄散，“市市……市長先生！你沒事吧！？” 男人黑著臉，“你應該問問被你撞的人有沒有事。”說完，他推門下車查看。 黑色傘面被暴雨沖刷，男人腳踩一雙高定皮鞋，踏著汙水來到昏倒在地的女人面前。 司機哭喪著臉，“我明明踩剎車了，好像沒撞到她啊？” “不是你撞的。”男人一眼看出端倪，冷笑了聲，“碰瓷？膽子倒大。” 說完，他冷漠收回目光，轉身就走。 “等等……”剛剛還“昏迷”不醒的女人突然出聲，伸出一隻髒兮兮的手，飛快地拽住了男人剪裁利落乾淨的褲腳，抬起臉虛弱道：“別走，他們在追我，求你救、救我……” 這個聲音…… 男人腳步一頓，回過頭來，漆黑的眸子居高臨下看清了車燈下那張沾著泥土的臉，瞳孔驟縮。 “這、這不是孫少爺的未婚妻嗎！是市長先生您的侄媳婦啊！”司機率先驚叫。 “呵，”男人語調嘲諷，“我侄媳婦？” 他們在說什、什麼……什麼市長媳婦的…… 季靈希眼前男人的臉早就化作重影，耳邊一片嗡嗡，逃到這裡已經耗盡了她所有的力氣，到最後也只能全憑本能的死死抓著那塊一絲一線都昂貴至極的“救命稻草”不放。 男人似乎蹲下了身，但季靈希已經徹底支撐不住，昏厥了過去。 第2章 私人醫生 再醒來是在陌生的房間，窗外是炫目的白晝。 床邊穿著白大褂的醫生正在收拾工具，見季靈希睜眼，立刻高呼：“先生，人醒了！” 男人很快推門進來，對上了床上女人一雙迷茫受驚的小鹿般的眼，眼底是深刻的防備和恐懼。 他走近床邊，“醒了？燒退了嗎？” 冰冰冷冷，有點熟悉的聲音，更熟悉的是那張面無表情的臉。 “……許先生？”季靈希認出人，瞪大眼睛，“怎麼是你？” 這個男人她認識，是她的患者。 季靈希大學一畢業就入職了京市第一人民醫院心內科，許盛廷是她接手的第一個病人。 但神奇的是，許盛廷患有的並非是任何心臟類疾病，而是應該歸屬為精神科的睡眠障礙。 他患有嚴重失眠症，入睡困難，曾有過長達一個月未合過眼，最後暈厥在辦公室的記錄，他的上一位心理醫生對他束手無措，可機緣巧合下，卻發現許盛廷對季靈希的聲音有特殊反應，能依靠她的聲音睡著！ 於是他便被轉到了季靈希名下，成為了一個“特殊”病人。 這段時間的變故讓季靈希分身乏術，醫院那邊不得已請了長假，倒是許久沒有為許盛廷催眠了。 季靈希看著男人那張過分英俊的臉，高挺的鼻樑在臉頰落下陰影，嘴唇偏薄顯得不近人情，一雙冷靜威嚴的鷹眸底下，卻掛著兩個煞風景的黑眼圈。 眼睛裡也有不少紅血絲，顯然是太久沒能休息，精神高度緊繃造成的。 “謝謝許先生救了我。”季靈希坐起身，小臉脆弱蒼白。 回想起暈倒前的一切，她沒想到豁出性命的一次“碰瓷”，居然正好碰到了熟人身上！ 不幸中的萬幸。 “不客氣，我也很慶幸沒有背上一條人命。”許盛廷確認她已經退燒後，便讓醫生離開了，自己則順勢坐在了醫生的位置上。 “抱歉……”季靈希羞愧垂眼，“我不得不那樣。” 她尷尬的雙手絞著衣角，卻突然意識到自己身上的衣服已經換了。 也是，渾身溼乎乎髒兮兮的，怎麼上床？ 可是誰給她換的？不會是…… “昨晚是讓保姆給你洗的澡，換了衣服。”許盛廷見她呆呆地盯著衣服出神，臉還越來越紅，就猜到了她在想什麼。 “謝、謝謝。”被看穿心裡所想，季靈希更羞恥了。 好在許盛廷沒再繼續計較，而是突然提起另一件事：“你是不打算回醫院了嗎？” “短時間內我可能確實回不去了。”她實話實說。 醫院的工作需要花費大量時間和全部精力，但工資對於現在的她來說卻是杯水車薪，再加上父親的冤屈還未洗刷，季靈希不能把時間全部交代在那裡。 許盛廷的表情更冷了，“那你的病人怎麼辦？半途而廢，季醫生未免太不負責。” 什麼病人，他分明就是在說他自己！ 季靈希低下頭，“如果許先生需要催眠的話，可以隨時聯繫我，能來我一定來。” 也算是報答他這次的救命之恩了。 “是嗎？可你的電話打不通，消息也一直未讀。” 季靈希一愣，想起了什麼，尷尬道：“抱歉，我的手機不久前壞了……”被那群追債的砸了，還沒來得及買新的。 許盛廷皺了皺眉，顯然也想到了現下季靈希的狼狽，他沒有多問，只是叫了人進來吩咐了什麼，很快那人出去又進來，手裡多了一部手機。 許盛廷把手機交給季靈希，“以後用這個聯繫。” “啊？”怎麼能平白無故拿人家東西，季靈希第一反應是拒絕。 卻被許盛廷制止，“先別急著拒絕，我還有一份合約要和你商議。” “什麼合約？” “首先，我願意每月支付你五十萬。” 什麼？ 季靈希睜大眼睛看他，一臉震驚。 隨即她意識到什麼，驀地扯過被子將自己裹緊，只露出一雙警惕的眼睛。 悶悶的聲音隔著棉被傳來：“許先生，我不賣身的。” 看著他正派的眉眼和楚楚的衣冠，季靈希心道，沒想到也只是個人模狗樣的男人。 許盛廷沉默了會兒，突然莫名笑了下，“是嗎？加錢也不可以嗎，只需要每晚……” 伴隨著他越來越露骨的發言，季靈希炸毛一般，“當然不可以！” “只需要每晚給我催眠。”男人徐徐補充完整。 季靈希僵住。 “季醫生想到哪裡去了？”許盛廷看著她羞恥的眼，語氣揶揄，“我只是想聘請你做我的私人醫生而已，畢竟你是這個世界上唯一能讓我睡著的人。” 簽合同的時候，季靈希的臉還因為尷尬發著紅。 但同時她也感到難以置信，許先生居然真的開了月薪五十萬聘請她做私人醫生，而她的工作僅僅是每晚來給他催眠而已，這簡直是天上掉餡餅的事情。 諷刺的是，五十萬，正是那個劉總要買走她的價格。 “謝謝許先生。”季靈希抱著新手機，眼睛亮亮的看著他。 看著她紅撲撲的臉頰，男人眼神一暗，隨即移開目光，“嗯，晚上記得準時到，現在是休息還是離開，都隨意。” 季靈希立刻侷促道：“我很快就走。” “……嗯。” 季靈希出了門，才發現這裡是郊區的一棟私人別墅，私密性很強，和許先生這個人一樣神秘。 神秘到即使作為主治醫師為他治療了三個月，季靈希還是不清楚他的身份，只知道他忙碌且富有，應該是個成功人士。 她用新手機登入了自己的社交賬號，很快彈出一大堆未讀消息。 其中有個紅色的頭像格外醒目，是她的未婚夫許家榮，季家出事後，季靈希一直沒能聯繫上他。 現在他卻發來：靈希，明天下午三點，盛輝酒店1306見。 是昨天的消息。 第3章 一夜給你一萬 距離三點還有一個小時，季靈希看一下地圖，從這裡打車過去剛好來得及。 要去嗎？她心裡突突的跳。 昨天那個死肥豬男的話還歷歷在耳，他說許家早就退婚了。 可季靈希壓根沒收到通知，因此就算許家榮裝死了一個月，她還一直自欺欺人般抱著期待。 季家尚且衰亡，萬一許家也遇到了麻煩呢？或者是擔心受到牽連，等這陣子風頭過了，他就會聯繫她了呢？ 季家和許家在爺爺輩曾是世交，季靈希和許家榮更是自小就定下了娃娃親，兩人青梅竹馬，感情一度是甜蜜的，季靈希在心裡確實曾真心把他當做未來丈夫。 因此還懷揣著天真的期待和信任。 她最終叫了個網約車出發了。 無論退婚一事是真是假，她如今孤立無援，身負鉅債，即使是最後一點希望也要把握！ 網約車上，司機播放著時政廣播，主持人正在播報京市新任市長，是如何新官上任三把火，頒佈了不少利民新政策不說，還抓了一大批貪官汙吏，其中能源部部長季祥和，更是被舉報貪汙公款高達十個億，舉國震驚。 季靈希緊緊咬著唇，眼眶泛紅。 是新市長抓了父親。 說起來，之前她昏迷前，好像是隱隱約約聽到了什麼市長什麼媳婦之類的。 可當時深夜荒涼，周圍只有一輛車上有活人，大概高燒產生的錯覺吧。 如果能見到那位市長就好了，她真的很想瞭解清楚父親貪汙案件的始末，想知道那些所謂確鑿的證據都是從何而來。 她是父親的女兒，最清楚父親的人品，他是絕對做不出貪汙公款這種事情的！ 但以她現在的身份，想見那位市長一面，恐怕難如登天。 車停在了盛輝酒店門口，季靈希下車後，按照門牌號很快來到約定地點。 房門沒有關嚴，應該是許家榮已經到了，在等她。 季靈希沒多想，直接推開了門。 房間裡卻一片漆黑。 難道許家榮還沒到？ 季靈希略有疑惑，一邊往裡走一邊摸索開關。 突然她伸出的手腕被猛地攥住。 有人！ 季靈希猝然睜大眼，驚叫還沒來的及喊出口，就被捂住口鼻，強制拉進了一個光裸的懷抱。 “唔唔唔！”她拼命掙扎，卻完全敵不過對方的力氣，心裡驚懼一片。 “啪！”燈被打開了。 季靈希看清了來人，赫然是許家榮！ 對上她難以置信的眼，許家榮獰笑一聲，砰的把門踢上，緊接著把季靈希按在了牆上。 “靈希，我好想你。”許家榮緊貼著她身體，灼熱的鼻息噴灑在季靈希的脖子上，讓她渾身發毛。 她抗拒的推著他，“許家榮，你幹什麼？” “幹什麼？這不明擺著。”許家榮說著，居然開始撕扯她的衣服。 季靈希愕然，在驚怒之下，照著他裸露的肩膀狠狠咬了下去！ “嘶——”劇烈的痛感，讓許家榮下意識推開她，季靈希趁機逃離他的束縛，閃身抄起床頭櫃的檯燈，警惕的盯著他。 他們如今婚約是否名存實亡都不一定呢，季靈希怎麼可能跟他做！ 許家榮咬牙切齒，“季靈希！你淪落到如今這個地步，還不肯跟我睡？” “當初我圖你季家的助力，讓著你就算了，現如今你家都到這步田地了，你還有什麼可矜持的，扭扭捏捏裝假清高！” 季靈希被羞辱得渾身顫抖，瞪著他，“我只問你，許家是不是退婚了！？” 聞言，許家榮輕蔑一笑，看著季靈希的眼神更是不加掩飾的露骨，“不然呢？你以為你現在還配得上我？季靈希認清現實吧，跟了我，以後一夜給你一萬如何？” 季靈希氣紅了眼，握著檯燈的手都在發抖，“許家榮，我以前怎麼沒發現你這麼噁心？” “呵，我看你是敬酒不吃吃罰酒！”說完，他直接衝上來，季靈希舉起檯燈砸，卻被男人一把擋住，反手將她控制。 力量太懸殊了，季靈希顫抖著咬唇，目露恨光。 這時，許家榮褲兜裡的電話鈴響了。 他不以為然，電話自動掛斷，但緊接著又響起一個特殊的鈴聲。 許家榮動作一頓，咬牙切齒的空出手接通電話：“爺爺。” 對面威嚴的聲音傳出，季靈希離得太近也能聽見。 “家榮啊，你小叔回京市上任也有三個多月了，今晚辦家宴，你現在立刻回來。” 第4章 許家小叔 許老爺子是許家的真正掌權者，威嚴不言而喻，以至於許家榮如今箭在弦上，也不得不偃旗息鼓。 季靈希趁機掙脫開他的束縛，整理好身上的衣服。 見狀，許家榮冷笑：“這次先放過你，季靈希你好好想想吧，做我的女人才是你的最佳選擇，不然有第一個劉總就會有第二個，你以為次次都能逃得掉嗎？” 聽他提起劉總，季靈希難以置信，“你知道？” “當然，你可知你那好叔叔的拜帖遞給過多少人？如今圈子裡誰人不知，你季家大小姐是個五十萬就能買走的便宜貨？” 季靈希瞬間白了臉，眼底的恨意不加掩飾。 但許家榮卻不以為意，失去了季祥和庇護的季靈希就是一隻弱小的兔子，人人都能踩一腳，一隻兔子能有什麼反抗能力呢？ “季靈希，想清楚了隨時聯繫我。” 許家榮晃了晃手機，勢在必得的看了她一眼，轉身離開。 季靈希死死盯著他，在男人轉身之際，突然暴起舉著手中檯燈狠狠砸了下去！ 一聲巨響，紅漿自許家榮頭頂流下，劃過他猝然瞪大的雙眼，落到地面上。 男人抽搐著倒地。 季靈希後知後覺，顫抖著走到他身邊，蹲下身試探鼻息。 還活著。 松了口氣，季靈希站起身，居高臨下看了他兩秒，又不解氣地往那兩腿之間來了一腳。 … 許家。 京市作為H國首都，無數豪門世家紮根於此，其中許家是當之無愧的豪門之首，因此這一年一度的家宴，也舉辦得極其鋪張奢華。 一輛黑色紅旗L9停在了大門口，管家連忙來幫忙拉開車門，男人伸出長腿下車。 “二爺回來了，老爺在屋裡呢，現下除了家榮少爺，其他人也都到了。” 許盛廷聞言，朝他點點頭，徑直往屋裡走。 然而剛靠近主屋，裡面的吵鬧聲就傳了出來。 是他父親，許家家主的聲音，“那混賬東西，婚都退了還非要去招惹人家，還鬧到局子裡去了，簡直丟盡我許家顏面！” “爸，也不能怪我們家榮啊，傳信人說他腦袋都被打破了，分明是受害者！我看是那姓季的，家裡出事想要抓著我們許家不放，糾纏家榮呢！” 許盛廷站在門口沒進去，皺眉問：“怎麼回事？” 老管家尷尬道：“聽說是家榮少爺被他前未婚妻砸破了腦袋，人家姑娘打了120，結果救護車沒到，少爺自己醒了，拉著那姑娘非要報警，現在人被困在局子裡呢。” “他既然是受害者，又為什麼會被扣在警局。” “因為那姑娘跟警察說他試圖侵犯她……” 許盛廷冷笑，隨即推門而入。 與此同時，他大哥許源，估計也是覺得家宴鬧出這事實在丟人，拉著正據理力爭的妻子，勸道：“你別說了，現在當務之急是把家榮接回來。” 他大嫂紅著眼：“警察不肯放人我怎麼接！” “我去接。”冰冷的聲音打斷他們。 “盛廷？”許源尷尬笑道，“你來了，也是，你如今是市長，在警局那邊的面子自然比我們好用。” 許盛廷不置可否，神情冷淡的跟主位上的老爺子打了個招呼。 警局，季靈希坐在和許家榮一欄杆之隔的房間裡，冷眼看著他發瘋。 對此警察也頭疼，他們又何嘗想得罪許家，季靈希雖然控訴許家榮侵犯未遂，但到底拿不出實質的證據，本來教育教育就可以放人。 但許家榮一個嬌生慣養的大少爺，還是第一次被人開瓢，哪裡咽的下這口氣？ 非要強留在這裡死纏爛打，要季靈希坐牢，不然就賠償他五百萬。 五百萬？就憑他頭頂連輕傷都算不上的口子？這不搞笑嘛。 況且罪名雖無法成立，但人家姑娘身上的淤青和破碎的衣服是實打實的，砸他完全是合法自保，他再鬧也沒用啊。 警局外傳來動靜，有人小跑進來，“隊長，許家來人了。” “誰來了？” “好像是許家二爺。” 警長唰得起身，“還不快請進來！” 季靈希聞言抿緊了唇，神態防備。 許家二爺，那不就是許家榮的小叔？肯定是來撈他的。 門被推開，男人高大的身影出現在門口，季靈希警惕地望過去，卻看到了一張意料之外的熟悉的臉。 她人傻了。 怎麼是許盛廷？ ...... 接下來會發生什麼？ 這裡放的章節有限，點選下方按鈕安裝App，繼續閱讀更多精彩章節 （打開應用程式時會自動跳到該書） &5&		Love reading - A		85	https://www.facebook.com/61568188880222/	0		LEARN_MORE								View Edit Delete